In A Handbasket
by isawsparks
Summary: She's wearing one of those short skirts, the ones I know mom disapproves of and the ones I completely approve of. The ones I approve of far more than I should, and not just because we're both girls. Spashley AU.
1. Introductions

Stuck inside another Sunday dinner and all I can do is stare at her from across the table. Stare at her like I'm wearing the biggest pair of sunglasses ever created, leaving my line of visual interest hidden. The catch here, however, is I'm not wearing any glasses; my line of vision is certainly not hidden; and the object of my desire knows it. Oh how she knows, but pretends she doesn't. Or maybe I'm the one pretending.

She's wearing one of those short skirts; the ones I know mom disapproves of and the ones I completely approve of. The ones I approve of far more than I should, and not just because we're both girls.

I do this a lot. Staring. I do it too much. I want her. It took a long time to realize it. And it took even longer to accept it. But two years after first meeting her, I think I've managed to do both.

It's a complicated relationship we have; Ashley and me. Both nearing twenty seven, with plenty in common, she's become one of my closest friends here in my small hometown of Shaker Heights, Ohio. Population: One. While I could figure out the exact population number, I really don't care [and I'm sure all of you don't either. Because all that matters to me [and I'm sure all of you too is she's a part of that population.

And really, who needs to know more than that?

Yeah, yeah. I know, I should probably include my family, my friends, hell even myself in that number. But I swear, some days, most days, all I care about is her. Some days, most days, all that lives and breathes in this town, is her.

It's bad. Really bad. But somehow, no one knows. No one suspects. No one but my best friend Madison, and even she hasn't mentioned anything. Some nights, like tonight, I'm nervous my father might have an idea. Some nights, like tonight, I catch him catching me watching her.

"So work's going well honey?"

His voice draws me from my peas, a shabby subistitue for Ashley's adorable nose, but as I said, I knew he was watching.

"Yeah..." a sidelong glance at that gorgeous brunette [I just can't help myself, whose interest has diverted from my mother to my father and me "...pretty much."

She holds my attention in the delicate palm of her hand, taking her time in giving me that wicked knee weakening smirk of hers before returning to Paula's drabble about the "Club"s new pool; leaving me in my own pool of arousal and guilt. It's moments like these, where I know I'm not the one pretending. Where I'm sure she feels everything between us. Sees everything between us. I know she feels what I feel. Sees what I see. I know she sees everything inside of me.

Shit. I'm staring again.

And fuck. Dad's watching.

"So..uh...things at the Youth Center?" I stutter, eyes crawling back to his, knowing they're an exact mirror of my own "...things...uh...going well?"

He takes a moment, smiling at me in such a strange way. Oh God, he knows. He so fucking knows. I'm a short few minutes from going to hell...and something tells me it won't be in a handbasket.

Breathe, Spence, breathe. Paranoia was never your friend.

"Same as always, which I guess is a good and bad thing."

He's normal again, eating his dinner through a smile; he's always been proud of his culinary skills, and rightfully so. I mean why else would my two brothers and me, off living our own lives, still gather back here at our childhood home every Sunday for one of his kick ass dinners?

It's the cooking I tell you.

I swear it's to see my family.

I keep telling myself that, but my disguise is wearing thin, you all see through it, and someday soon I fear they will too. Someday soon they'll all know my dirty secret. They will, and so will she.

A foot beckons me from my frightful thoughts. Her foot poking mine.

And I'm staring again. But so is she. So it's ok.

Conversation swirls around us; Clay and Chelsea's baby girls terrorizing first day of preschool; Glen's next away game; Mom's obsession with the "Clubs" new pool...seriously who IS she sleeping with over there?

But I don't care enough to spend much more time dwelling on that [actually, I don't care to ever put more thought into that

Ashley and I are having our own words, with our own eyes, with our own smiles, with our own food on our plate that we try to look down on...but can't. We can't leave each other. She's giving me her open mouthed smile. The one that makes me feel like all of this...is alright. I mean, friends can look at each other right? Best friends can have moments like these, that they don't want to end, can't they?

It's perfectly normal to want to sweep the table clean and throw said best friend over it, doing the most amazingly dirty things possible to her?

No? That's not exactly normal?

Sigh.

And once again, I don't care, because she's pulling the silly "cross-eyed" face she loves so much [as do I. A normal occurance at Sunday dinners, and always almost makes me spit out my water. Gets me every time. It's so innocent, so goofy, so childish...just like her sometimes. And I love it. Just like I love her.

Yikes.

I really said that, didn't I? Love. The L word. I'm so in trouble, you don't even know the half of it.

A big, imperfect hand slides into Ashleys tanned and perfect one, pulling her from me.

"Ready, baby?"

Ew.

"Oh..." She tries to look at me once more, I know it, but my fork holds my reserved-for-her-eyes attention "...yeah, I'm ready."

She sounds quiet and defeated.

But I'm fuming with jealousy. So much so, I won't look at her as she says her goodbyes to the room. I'll make up an excuse later. I'll figure out how to explain my sudden bitterness over "nothing." But right now, in this moment, it hurts too much to see her with him.

Him being my brother Glen.

That's the worst part, for so many obvious reasons, but the reason it eats at me isn't for those obvious reasons. It eats at me, cause I can't do anything about it. It aches for me to see her with him. It kills me a little more every time they share a routine, unthinking, kiss.

And I have no right to feel this way. I'm actually the opposite of right. I'm so wrong. All of this is so wrong. But the thing is, while it may be wrong, it doesn't feel that way.

No, everything with Ashley, only feels right. When I'm with Ashley, I finally feel right.

But that doesn't matter, because she's not mine, she never will be, and it's practically my fault.

I met Ashley when I set her up with my brother.

I wanted her by the time he proposed.

And I fell completely in love with her at their wedding.

Yeah...I'm _so_ going to hell.


	2. From There To Here

AN :: Italics are memories.

Glen and Ashley have been married for three months, but Ashley and I still meet at our favorite coffee house every day for lunch.

Glen and Ashley have been together for almost two years, but Ashley and I still read each other. Read each other too well, some might think, and for the most part, I never do. I love being able to look into her eyes, and know every story inside them. And I love the same goes for me with her.

Except for today.

Except for right now, sitting inside our favorite coffee house. I'm not loving that she can read me so well. I'm avoiding those eyes. Because they spell worried and confused words, and I know it's only a matter of time before she asks about last night.

"So what was that last night?"

Man, I'm good and If it were anyone else, I'd say we spend too much time together, but that could never be the case with her. Even when she asks dreaded questions like the one she just asked.

I'm in a mild predicament here, mainly because I forgot to conjure up an excuse for last night's bitter behavior. So instead, I'm running right down Avoidance Lane, blowing over my coffee with such concentration, you'd think it were her naked body spread across my bed.

Mmm, naked.

"Hmm?"

"Come on Spence, don't bullshit a bullshitter..." she gently tugs my hand, removing me from that fascinating coffee mug "...what was with the cold shoulder?"

I shrug, hoping indifference will show honesty. "There was no cold shoulder, I was just tired."

"Oh please, I know you, I know you better than you know yourself, and that was not you being 'just tired' because that usually results in your drool on my shoulder..." she giggles quietly before focusing on my shifty eyes once more "...seriously, Spence, what's up?"

She's in complete concern mode, practically hovering over me on our shared couch, and while all I want to do is follow her lead and lean right back towards her... I don't. I stay straight where I am. I think she notices.

And it's definitely not helping my "I'm ok" case.

"Nothing's up, Ash, really, everything's cool."

She's so not looking convinced, and we so need to move on "...Really, I'm fine. Honest."

She's still not budging, except for her body sliding even closer to mine. The air is thickening, the space between us is burning up, and yeah...we definitely need to move on. I think sarcasm is the best and fastest solution.

"Yeah, you're right, I'm lying. I'm not fine..." I heavily sigh, before a sneaky sarcastic smile forms over my lips "...I'm actually better than fine. Amazing, even. No..." I widen my eyes, as hers simply roll, "...no that's still a lie, because I'm fantastic!" My arms begin to flail more and more with every dramatic exhalation, "Superb. Fabulous. Wait...you know what I really am?" Giving her a smirk, leaving her no time to answer, I loudly exhale "Un-fucking-believable."

She has no idea how unbelievable. Or maybe she does, judging from the pink forming on her cheeks.

"Ok, I get it, I get it!" Through somewhat unsure, but bashful, laughter, her hands pull mine down, not wanting my little scene to go any further. "Man, you forgot to add drama queen in that little diatribe."

"Wow that's rich, coming from you. Tell me again..." my finger taps my chin, deep in mock thought "...why did you call me in the middle of the night last week, shrieking into the phone?"

"Spencer, that's so not fair, you know how terrified of spiders I am."

"Oh, believe me, beeeelieve me, I know...but it wasn't a spider, now was it? No, it was a feather, Ash, a feather that happened to brush against your arm in the dark." My hands cover my gasping mouth, eyes pointing in sarcastic fear. "Feathers! Oh.The.Horror!"

"I hate you."

"You love me."

"Too much."

"Too little."

"Too late?"

She pauses, both our eyes seriously fixed on each other, before we break into a sloppy rendition of the cheesy Jojo ditty "Too Little, Too Late". Clearly Ashley's masterfully carrying the same tune I'm so easily butchering. She seriously has the most amazing voice, and I normally would stop singing now just to admire it, but I much prefer her making music with me rather than without me.

Ba-dum-bum-tisch.

Eventually, our singing dies down along with our laughter, both exhaling deep sighs.

"Man, Jojo..." I breathe out, absentmindedly.

"...Such a talent." She finishes my thought, like she always does. We both nod in serious agreement, content with the silence between us. That is until I feel her warm, soft, unbelievable hand hold onto mine.

"Really, though, you're ok right? I mean..." she looks somewhat flustered at whatever she's about to say, moving her other hand to point between us "...we're ok, right?"

I gulp.

"Yeah...couldn't be better."

Lies. Lies. Lies.

"Good."

She's still holding onto my hand, her thumb starts brushing over my skin, and my cheeks are lighting on fire. I have to stop this, no matter how much I'm enjoying it, I have to. So I let go of her and go right back for my mug, ending whatever moment we were having. I think I feel her disappointment.

"Now since I have to go back to work in like fifteen minutes, how bout we talk about something that actually matters?"

I smile at my sarcastic jab, while she merely squints her eyes at me, pretending to be offended, before she dramatically exhales.

"Well I thought we were, but since you're all knowing in things that matter, please take the floor, it's all yours."

Eyes rolling with a few exasperated sighs, she's in complete faux-bitch mode [aka hot mode and I'm probably blushing, but that's ok. We're not talking about me or cold shoulders anymore, and that's all that matters.

"Well, now that you've finally accepted my highly respected title..." I scoff, holding a hand to my heart, as she bows towards me in a very "your highness" way, making me snort lightly with laughter.

"...Anyway..." I give her an eye roll, for really no reason at all, making her giggle softly as I continue on with conversation, "...I offer the topic of Aiden's upcoming birthday party to the table...namely, what are we going to do for it?"

Aiden was my first boyfriend in high school, and the sad [well depending on who you ask part is he's probably the last serious one I've ever had. That's almost 10 years. Whatever, I have my fun, I just don't stick around for when it becomes unfun. I've always been a picky perfectionist. I never settle. I take what I want, use what I need, and leave it all behind when I'm done.

Are you laughing at my excuses too? Good. Cause you should. It's all bullshit. Truth is, I want her. No one else. And I guess that means I'm going to be alone forever. Somehow, though, with her looking at me with those brown brown eyes, I could care less. Who really needs to grow old with someone? Not me.

I know, you're still laughing at my pitiful lies, aren't you?

Anyway, Aiden and I had our big two year relationship. Love. Kisses. First times. Homecomings. All that nonsense. We broke up when we left for separate colleges, both realizing it was a blessing, as we worked much better as friends. Best friends. And that's what we've always been.

He and Ashley hit it off right away when they first met, much to my displeasure I hate to admit. While they're great friends now [much to my pleasure, I'm very happy and proud to admit it wasn't always that way. In fact, if I were to play the blame game [and I do love to play that game Aiden is partly responsible for that whole setting "the love of my life" up with my brother.

It's not something I particularly like to relive, but you're all curious aren't you? Well I don't blame you, it still baffles me how we all got from there to here. Here, where Ashley is married to Glen, and I'm just pining pining pining away.

But you already know about "here", I guess it's time for me to show you "there".

"_Spence, that girl is so hot." Aidens eyes do a not so covert crawl up her body "...Damn."_

"_You are so sleazy, stop."_

_But he doesn't, he keeps checking out Ashley's perfect, but now hidden behind the counter, body. I lean across my chair, girlishly swatting his muscle-y arm._

"_Aiden! Come on. You're embarrassing me!"_

_Not to mention making me insanely jealous. The weird thing, it's not jealousy over him, and the scary [or maybe sad thing is, I can't even bring myself to figure out why._

"_Aww Spence! Are you jealous? Want to have another go, cause well..." he lets his eyes look over my body, something I've seen him do a thousand times, however, this time there's no trace of that attraction like there was in the past "...I wouldn't be opposed."_

_He winks, and I shake my head, laughing wholeheartedly at his cheesiness. With a hand covering my eyes, I quietly wonder how we ever dated for two years. Or even how we're somehow best friends today._

"_Hey Spencer!"_

_I'd know that raspy voice anywhere, and as I slowly peer above the hand covering my eyes, I know I'm right._

"_Hi Ashley."_

"_Thought you might like a refill?" She holds out a coffee pot in my direction._

"_Oh..." I glance down at my rather full mug and then hold it out to her with a shrug "..why not, thanks."_

_She fills me up, and I find myself briefly thinking of her filling me up in other ways._

_Wait...what?_

_Did I really just think that?_

_Yes, I did and I have been for awhile. Ashley Davies, coffee pourer and pastry maker, is, as Aiden puts it, "hot". And maybe I have a little innocent crush on her. You know, in the same way that straight girls love Angelina Jolie [well except for this straight girl._

_It means nothing. I'm just bored and alone. The last guy I dated, Keith, lasted about three weeks, and happily ended when I realized I'd rather date a sack of potatoes than him._

_I need stimulation, both mentally and physically, and I'm not finding it. So of course I'd grow fond of Ashley, head employee of the town's main Coffee place. She's smart, witty, interesting, and friendly [most the time. Plus she's easy on the eyes. Who wouldn't want to be around that?_

_Well, I know I did and still do. Still very much do. It was by chance that we met, really. I had just moved back home from Cleveland, where I had been living for awhile after graduating from college. I was tired of the city life, I missed my family, and my job as a photographer for Clevelands underground music mag, "Pic", was not what it used to be. So just like that, I moved back to my hometown, earning a job as a photographer at the local newspaper. Not the most glamorous of jobs, but I'm happy._

_During my first week back in Shaker Heights, I stumbled into what I thought was The Coffee Pot, my favorite place to get a latte, however this was not The Pot. No, this place was jazzed up with funky drawings on the walls and splattered paint on the floor. I quickly realized that the rather large "The Bean" sign hanging before my eyes was indication that The Coffee Pot was no longer here. Not one for breaking the routine, I was completely ready to walk out; if it wasn't what I already knew and trusted, I didn't care to stay._

_But then I heard her._

"_Leaving so soon?"_

_Slowly I turned and found this full of energy brunette perched behind the register. Her wild curly strands of hair framing her beautiful face perfectly._

"_See...I think you should stay, you don't know what you're missing out on."_

_There was something in her voice, her words, that made me believe her. I knew I'd be missing out if I didn't hang around._

_So I did._

_I've been coming back here for coffee breaks ever since. A month later, and I'm yet to really know anything about Ashley, except we're the same age, and that she's single._

_Don't ask me how I know this. Or more so, why it relieves me._

_We share hello's and happy smiles. She refills my cup, too often sometimes, and it makes me wonder if maybe she wants to start up conversation with me as much as I want to with her. Either way I keep coming back, sitting on the same comfy chair in the back right corner, pretending to read the paper, a book, my slides...while I watch her._

_While I read her._

_Yeah, I come here for the coffee. Yup. But, truthfully, The Bean's coffee isn't as good as the Coffee Pot's. And honestly, I don't miss it. Because the service here, with it's witty comebacks, and hearty smiles, is worth more than any perfect latte._

_I can hear Aiden coughing, growing louder with each second, and it breaks me from my thoughts._

"_What?" I almost spit out, annoyed._

_He widens his eyes, nodding towards Ashley, who's making her way back over here._

"_Your point is..? Or am I supposed to understand what your grunting and nervous ticks mean?" I chuckle, so he knows I'm joking, as he rolls his eyes "Introduce me to the hottie!"_

_Right. Of course he wants to be introduced. And weirdly, I do not want that to happen._

"_So big day at the paper, Spence?"_

_Ashley perches herself slightly on my arm rest, and suddenly it's very warm in here._

"_Oh yeah...for sure."_

_For sure? You are such a loser. And there goes Aiden coughing again._

"_You ok over there? You want something to drink, water or something?"_

_Ashley asks, with genuine concern and maybe some pity, and it takes everything in me to not burst out laughing. I knew I liked her._

_Cheeks flushed and smiling, Aiden laughs, with a bit of embarrassment I'm sure, and stands. "Yeah, water, that's it..." he eyes me, while I just smirk "...I'm gonna go grab one, want anything Spence?"_

_I smile, shaking my head "no", and watch him walk away, a slight sulk in his step._

"_Boyfriend?"_

"_Aiden? No..." I shake my head profusely "...definitely no."_

"_Ahhh..." She looks down on her skirt covered legs, sitting so close to my overheating body "...he's cute."_

_It's absentminded, but something tells me she might be interested. "Maybe you should introduce me then."_

_She says it sweetly, looking down on her tied hands in her lap, before smirking over towards me._

_Oh no. No, absolutely not._

"_Aiden? No, he's..." I'm so tempted to say gay, but somehow I know that will only backfire "...he's not really into relationships."_

_Not a complete lie._

"_Well neither am I, sounds like a match made in heaven to me."_

_The smile on her face makes me wonder what her exact intentions are here. Something about that wicked smirk makes me think that maybe, just maybe, she's not interested in Aiden at all. Maybe, she's interested in him as way to get closer to me._

_Either way she's not getting closer to Aiden, that I will make sure of._

"_You should meet my brother." I practically blurt out, and I'm terribly confused as to where it even came from. Judging from Ashley's amused face, I'm sure she's a bit baffled too._

"_Your brother, huh?"_

_Her mouth opens crookedly, as if she's actually mulling this outlandish suggestion over. We hardly know each other, and yet, here I am setting her up with my brother._

_Which, remind me again, why am I doing this?_

_Oh right, to keep her away from Aiden. To keep her away from a potential relationship, and lord knows setting her up with Glen prevents both things. My oldest brother, in all his 26 years of age glory, is a mess. A player. And while I love him, we all know he will never settle down._

_And I'm safe in the knowledge that, unlike Ashley and Aiden, nothing could ever transpire between Ashley and Glen._

"_Well..." she lightly places her hand over mine as she stands "...maybe I should."_

_She smiles down at me, and it makes me swallow hard. I've never seen this smile before. It's not as vibrant. It's soft...with the faintest trace of something else. Something I can't quite put my finger on. Maybe sadness?_

_Either way, as I watch her sway back behind the register, I'm not sad. Because setting Ashley up with Glen to prevent her from dating Aiden is one of the best ideas I've ever come up with._

"Helloooo...Earth to Spencer."

"Wha?" I glance towards her.

"So what do you think?"

She's smiling widely, in a smart ass way, knowing full well I've been spacing.

"About?"

"About a party at my place for Aid's big night?"

"Oh right, Aiden..." my tone is strange from still being caught up in my memories from before, and as I see her looking at me funny, I change my tune quickly "...that sounds perfect, Ash. Glen won't mind?"

It takes everything in me to not cringe as I say my brothers name.

"Oh..." she waves her hand, dismissively "...he's not going to be here, some team publicity thing..." she sighs, almost sadly "...to be honest, I'm not really sure where he's going to be, what event he's going to, they all seem to blend together these days."

It hurts my heart to see her sad, so I reach my hand for hers. Loosely lacing our fingers, making her smile up at me. I give her a weak smile, not sure what else I have to give.

"It's ok...you're gonna be here, my favorite Carlin, and that's all that matters."

I quirk an eyebrow.

"Favorite, eh?"

"Well..." She laughs lightly "...I would say Paula, but she's been kinda creepy about the Club's new pool these days so..."

"I know!"

"Seriously, Spence, WHO is she sleeping with over there?"

With wide eyes, we smile at each other from our mutual discovery, before we fall into fits of giggles. Hunched over and breathless, we laugh until it's over nothing. Until we're laughing because the other one hasn't stopped yet, and that in itself is reason enough. Suddenly, through her laughter, she tries to tell me something, and even though her voice is lost in her chuckles, I'm not.

No, through those gorgeous and open eyes, I understand every word.


	3. That Moron Is Me

One last tank top tossed from my closet, and I fall to my knees, blowing a million strands of hair from my face at the same time.

"Are you seriously still looking for something to wear?"

Madison's voice barrels from the hallway straight to my frustrated ears inside the closet. [definitely not the only frustrated thing inside this "closet".

"Yes!" I exasperate.

I hear her pad her way over my clothes covered floor, "Are we or are we not just going to Aiden's birthday party, I mean there isn't some Fergie-Glamor-iscious stop along the way, right?"

She finally makes her way to my pouting grounds [the closet, naturally, and spreads her arms to either side of the open doorway, a healthy mixture of annoyance, humor, and pity written across her face.

"No. No, we're going straight to Ashley's."

I hang my head low, sighing in defeat over my serious melodramatic misfortune. I feel her eyes looking down on me with some amusement, before she sighs to herself.

"You are so high maintenance, I mean I thought I was pretty bad, but you..." I finally look up to her chuckling face, finding one stern finger pointed straight at me, "...You, Spencer Carlin, take the maintenance cake."

"Ha. Maintenance cake. Good one, Duarte. So witty, you are." I tilt my head all the way back, eyes shutting with the biggest, fakest smile ever.

She laughs lightly as I feel her reach above me.

"Here..." a black off the shoulder long sleeved shirt drops onto my pitiful lap. "This paired with those jeans and we just might get you laid tonight."

She winks and I blush, immediately thinking of the one person I want to lay more than any bag of chips.

"Look at you, you're so thinking of someone right now! Tell me, Carlin, who's got you all flustered and taking five hours to get ready?"

Oh. Crap. Sarcastic deflection tactics here we come!

"Aiden, obviously, I'm thinking tonight's the night. After ten years, it's high time I gave that ride another wirl, I mean this girl's learned some new tricks in her old age, he won't even know what hit 'em!"

I quickly stand and turn away from her, hiding my on-fire-face while throwing on her selected garment.

"Bull. Shit." She gives me her best Matthew Mcconaughey impression, while I fiddle around with my shirt "...your sarcasm deflections don't work with me, Missy, now do as I say, and spill."

She's right. If there's anyone who reads me better than Ashley, it's Madison. But that's not all that surprising. I suppose being best friends with someone since basically birth does that to a relationship.

Yeah, we practically share a brain.

"I'm waiting." She orders from behind me, and I know she's wearing a shit-eating grin on her face for being right.

Deep breath. You can do this Spencer. All you have to do is lie to your best friend and build Rome in a day.

"Mads, there's no one..." I stop fidgeting, turning my head to the side, giving her my profile "...really, absolutely no one, and I'd totally tell you if there were."

She's silent for a moment.

"Uh huh. Sure. Whatever you say."

Finally fully turning around, I begrudgingly leave the safe haven of my closet and make my way towards her.

"You are such a nudge, you know that?"

"Yup, damn proud of it, and some day soon I will nudge it out of you."

"That's gonna be pretty impossible, considering the little fact that there's NO one to nudge out of me."

"You're so hopeless. Hot and adorable, but hopeless none-the-less. Now if you just tell me who, we can give you hope and make it happen. So, come on, fill me in girl!"

I shake my head at her, before a smile creeps over my lips, an idea popping into my head. Slowly, I saunter her way, knowing she'll never give up unless I give her reason to.

"Actually...there is someone."

"Yeah?" Her eyes light up like a Christmas tree.

"Yeah. I've been doing some thinking, and I can't believe I'm going to tell you this, but I just can't keep it in any longer..."

"Oh Spence, it's gonna be ok, we'll figure it out."

Her weird, but genuine, concern doesn't strike anything in me but a sliver of guilt for what I'm about to do, but then again, I need this conversation to end, so really...I don't feel all that bad.

"Ok..." I sigh, seriously "...Madison, I think it's time that we, you and me, well I think it's time we took our friendship to the next level."

She's nodding her head in such disappointment, but is still biting her lip to keep from laughing.

I twirl my foot to the side with an innocent, shy, smile, "So what do you say?"

She stands, scoffing through her laughter, "You are unbelievable."

"Oh baby, you have no idea."

"Shut up, ass, and just get ready. We're leaving in twenty minutes, not a minute later. And believe me Spence...I'm going to remember this. When you come to me, asking and pleading for help, I'm going to remember this time when you so RUDELY rejected it."

She's only half serious as she leaves the room, and I feel a pit land in the bottom of my stomach. Thinking over her words, thinking over their meaning and intention, I'm feeling slightly queasy.

Wait a minute...does she...does she know? Was that her way of giving me an out? Was she really just trying to actually help me?

The pit only grows, and as I stand in the middle of my disheveled room, I can only remember the last time I felt a similar pit.

--------------

_O'Neill's is packed and dim with a smoky cloud hanging above every tipsy head [even though smoking isn't even allowed inside this place. Glen swaggers his way back to our corner booth, drinks overflowing from his hands. He smiles in that little big brother way, that'll never grow old no matter how old he grows._

"_Guinness for my baby Sis, touche by the way, I'm impressed."_

"_Yeah, well, because someone was in such a girlish rush, I now have to drink my dinner tonight."_

_I take a long sip, glaring at his smirk, while he hands out the rest of the drinks to our group; Clay, Chelsea, Aiden, Madison, and Jack [Madison's boyfriend._

"_So when's this broad gonna show up, huh?"_

_Glen drops down in his seat, throwing his arm around both the back of the booth and Madison [who totally just rolled her eyes, giving me reason #3829734 why I love her so freakin' much._

"_She does have a name, you know?" I ask, somewhat annoyed, and not just because of his blatant rudeness. No, I'm definitely not thrilled with having to introduce Ashley to Glen. However, I was the one who made this concrete bed, so I guess I'm just going to have to carve me a place to sleep in it._

"_Yeah, Ashley, does have a hot name to go along with her hot body."_

_Aiden is such a perv, why did I invite him again? Actually, why do I even keep him around in the first place?_

"_So you better respect, Man."_

_Ahh yes, that's why, cause even through his perviness, he can still be a gentlemen...well kind of. He, at least, tries...well, sometimes. Oh, whatever, there is a reason, and I will remember it some day._

"_Yeah, yeah. Why aren't you going for her then?" Glen throws back, and I just drink more. Oh please, let's not go where this is heading._

"_Because I'm...Actually, I'm not really sure."_

_Aiden's starting to think about it, like really think about, and knowing how rare an occurance this is, I need to stop it._

"_You know something, I'm so over boys fighting over girls, really it's so high school, and I don't care to go back there, so let's move on." Madison effortlessly squashes that conversation, and turning towards Aiden, asks with the enthusiasm of a log, " How's the team doing this year?"_

_Mentally hugging Madison, and not really caring enough to hear about Shaker Highs Basketball team, I slide out from the table. Making my way for the bar, not even sure why, but knowing I need a break from that oppressive table...full of my family and closest friends._

_Sliding my frosty glass on the dark oak of the bar, I lean over it, with the weight of the world on my elbows._

_Yup. Tonight is gonna suck._

"_Hey you."_

_A soft voice somehow flutters inside me, and before I know it I feel Ashley pressed against me. With it being a Friday night and O'Neill's being a hot spot, she naturally has to squeeze impossibly close to me, to get a spot at the bar. I nervously glance towards her, seeing enough of her to know she's barely wearing anything, and feeling enough of me drool inside to know I appreciate it._

"_Hey."_

_She warmly smiles at me, a soft hand moving to silently sit on the small of my back, as she quickly glimpses at the bartender [not even five seconds at this packed bar, and she already has his attention_

"_Kettle on the rocks."_

_Taking a line from my brother, I nod her way, "Impressive."_

"_Well..." She looks me straight in the eye "...maybe I'm trying to impress tonight."_

_Gulp._

"_Um..."_

"_You look great, by the way."_

_She shyly smiles, looking down at the non existent space between us, and I have no words. No, really, I have none, and the smirk she's wearing suggests that maybe she knows it. Suggests that maybe she's enjoying it._

"_So...tonight's gonna be fun, yeah?"_

_Her lips show a different smile from the smirk. This one's innocent and somewhat vulnerable, and it finally allows me to find words again._

"_Yeah. It is."_

_Her drink has been delivered to the bar, but she doesn't move to take it. The bartender shouts her total while walking away, but she doesn't move to pay it. No, neither of us are moving to do anything._

_Both of us are perfectly content. Perfectly happy remaining right where we are. Tightly pressed together. Smiling goofy smiles meant for one another._

"_So that's the big NBA star, eh?"_

_Huh?_

_She nods behind me, "Your brother?"_

_Oh, right._

"_Oh..." my smile fades, as I glance over my shoulder, watching Glen tell some lame-ass story to a table of rolling eyes "...yeah, that's him."_

_Sigh, yup, sucky night here we come._

"_Guess we should join them, huh?"_

"_Yeah, I guess-"_

"_Or, we could just chug our drinks and make a mad dash for the door, you know, leave before anyone notices."_

_Now, THAT has my attention, as I snap my smiling face forward again. She seems giddy, and I know I seem it too [because I am, and suddenly all I can do is giggle like I've never been higher [and in a way, I never have_

"_Oh see now I think that idea has 'good time' written all over –"_

"_Baby Sis! Stop hogging the hottie and get over here!"_

_Dammit, Glen._

"_Wow, Spence, you didn't tell me your brother was so chivalrous."_

_She smirks, and I cringe._

"_Oh yeah, he's a big time gentlemen."_

_We remain where we are, for a brief moment, before she sighs. "Guess it's too late to act on Plan B, huh?"_

"_Yeah...too late" I practically whisper._

_I'm sad. No, I'm pretty much sulking, and I don't even care if she notices. Because part of me believes she is too._

"_Well..." She pushes off the bar, which only pushes her further into me, and suddenly I can't breathe cause she's leaning and whispering so softly right inside my ear "...we'll just have to pick up on it some other time, then."_

_Pulling away, with one big questionable smile, she walks away, leaving the gulping mess I've become behind. Slowly, I turn around, watching her stride towards our table, confidence and ease oozing off her every step._

_It doesn't take a genius to see that Glen's very happy with who I've set him up with. And it doesn't take a genius to see I'm so not happy about who I've set him up with._

_No, it doesn't take a genius to know that only a moron would set up this whole ordeal. And through a bitter laugh, I have to chug my cake of a beer, swiftly ordering a shot of Patron once I'm done._

_Because, I'm smart enough to know that moron is me._

--------------

"Spencer! If you're not out of that room in .25 seconds, I'm coming in there, and I promise you, it won't be pretty."

Blinking rapidly, I find myself back in the middle of my messy room, right back in the middle of "now." Grunting, I roll my eyes towards no one, and huff-n-puff my way out into the hallway; finding a cross-armed, foot tapping, Madison.

"Jesus H Christ Maddy! How much Maintenance Cake did you eat tonight?"

Even I want to snort at my own wittiness, but something tells me it'd be inappropriate.

She's holding her unamused face further away from her body, the words "excuse me" written everywhere, while her eyes squint daggers into me, and I feel the guilt over my rude attitude. I mean it's not her fault my own foolish memories have gotten me so riled up.

She's been silent for way too long, and yeah, it's time I did some apologizing.

"I'm sorry, Mads, I don't know why I'm being so grumpy."

This seems to have done the trick, cause her face cracks into the hugest smile.

"Oh I know why; you need to get laid."

Before I can say a single thing, she's already turned around, walking to our front door like she owns it [which she does, but just go with it

"And if you'd just tell me who you want to get it by already, we could take care of it."

I can practically hear her know-it-all smirk as she opens and walks out the door, leaving me behind. Leaving me to sigh and whisper to no one but my lonely self.

"If only it were that easy."

Before I can self deprecate any longer, Madison hollers for me to "hurry the hell up." With one last sigh, I waste no time in following her out the door, bracing myself for one long evening with all I love and all I can't have.

But, somehow, I manage a small smile, because I finally remember that tonight I get Ashley all to myself. And, really, isn't that what I've always wanted in the first place?

Yeah, it is.

And suddenly, just like that, the pit at the bottom of my stomach dissolves away. The smile on my face taking it's place, only growing bigger with every step I make, bringing me closer and closer to the girl of my dreams.

Also known as my brothers wife.


	4. Ashley Davies 101

**AN :: Thank you for the feedback guys. I sinceeerely appreicate it. Please feel free to keep sharing your thoughts. This next update is one big flashback.**

---------------

_"Wait, you were a photographer for PIC magazine?"_

_Ashley nearly drops her fork, and as I nod yes, I can't help feeling proud of my old job._

_"Bitch."_

_"Hey."_

_I try looking offended, but I can't,not with her smirking at me in that way. No, I could never look anything but thrilled when she looks at me that way, so instead I break into laughter, not able to hold it in anymore. She starts laughing too, and something tells me it's because she hears me doing the same. Because she likes how we sound laughing together._

_It's been a week since Ashley met up with us at O'Neills [aka the most torturous night ever Glen and Ashley were cordial, sharing laughs and innocent touches [always initiated by Glen. Even that was hard for me to stomach, and I probably would've called it an early night, leaving them to fall in love without me having to watch, but something prevented me from leaving. Something in the form of Ashleys eyes and subtle touches with me. _

_She may have gone to meet Glen, but she stayed to hang out with me. I may be clueless sometimes, but I'm not dense, and that is a fact I'm sure of. I mean, why else would she jump at the chance to be alone with me whenever the possibility arose? Why did she follow me to the bathroom every time I went, lamely [but adorably saying it's because we were "Loo Buds"?_

_And why did her eyes remain on me whenever she told a story? A table full of eyes, and she kept hers right with mine the whole time. Telling [ime[/i a separate story from what she told the table._

_I'm not really sure whether they [Glen and Ashley hit it off or not, but I am sure that we [me and Ashley really did. Which is why we're here now, having dinner together inside her small, but perfect apartment._

_"So what's your beef with PIC, hmm?"_

_I smile cheekily, realizing that when it's just me and her, I'm different. We both are. It's like we're finally ourselves, or something. I've never felt that way with someone, and if I weren't having so much fun, I'd probably freak out._

_But the truth is, it's only a matter of time before I freak out. Because I know there's something developing here. Something that scares me in a way I can't put my finger on._

_"Oh well my old band, The Drumsticks, tried to get you guys to cover a story on us for like ever. But we were always stupidly turned down."_

_I nearly cough on my beer, "The Drumsticks?"_

_"Yup. Why you remember us?" She has her own cheeky grin, and I wish I could say I do remember, but I don't._

_With a teasing scoff, I lean back in my chair, arms crossing, "Well, Ash, with a [ilaaaaame[/i name like The Drumsticks, is it really any surprise we turned you down?"_

_Her mouth opens in a surprised gasp, the first time I've ever really teased her, her first glimps at my sarcasm, before she smiles._

_"Wow, low blow Spence..." holding a hand to her heart, she laughs, "...low blow."_

_She smirks around her drink, and I feel something flutter inside my stomach for the 2,387th time tonight. I'm in trouble. I'm in so much trouble, because I know I'm getting myself into something I'm not ready for._

_No, I'm not just getting into this, I'm already very much inside [ithis[/i...whatever it is..and, yeah, I'm definitely not ready._

_I've finally gotten to know Ashley Davies, tonight. Through the smidgiest bits of information she's divulged, I feel like I know her. Born and raised in downtown Cleveland [the bad parts, she grew up fast, living with only her mother. Money was always tight, her mother literally saved their lives by working three jobs, and that's all she shared about her childhood [so different from my own. But that was ok with me, that was fine by me, because I felt special just to hear it. For hearing something that sounded like no one else had ever heard._

_No one but me._

_She loves music, and loves it in a [her words, not mine "crazy, obsessed way." With no boundaries, or segregation. Seriously, she is the Rosa Parks of music, leaving no artist behind to ride the back of the bus. Glancing over her CD collection proves this; Led Zeppelin, Laura Nyro, Destroyer, Bananrama, Pearl Jam, Temptations, Spice Girls, My Morning Jacket. The list could go on forever, cause the CDs certainly do. [and really, who still buys those things?_

_Well Ashley does. Yes, she's a rare kind these days; a rare bird that pays for every bit of music she owns. I like it._

_While she's an honest and law abiding citizen [in the ways of music, that is, she's also talented. Yup, she can play the drums, guitar, piano, violin, and she can sing. She studied music at a community college [that she's still paying for, and aspires to pursue a career there, inside music, in whatever way she can._

_Which has me curious as to what she's doing here, but when I asked, she merely shrugged, giving me a simple answer, "Just felt time, you know, time for a change in scenery."_

_That was it. My 101 crash course in Ashley Davies, and I have to say, I'm happy I signed up. No, I'm positively thrilled I was even accepted._

_We finished the delicious meal she cooked a little while ago, and neither one of us have made any signs of moving anytime soon. No, we both seem so content to just sit right here all night, drinking our drinks, and telling our tales._

_But something in the air just changed. Something just shifted._

_"So your brother called today."_

_And there it is. That's why things are different, because suddenly, she's different. She seems strange, now. Almost like she's putting it out there just to see how it's received. Like she's winding up and pitching me a ball just to see if I'll actually hit it._

_Just to see if I even can._

_"Oh?"_

_I try sounding nonchalant, cause lord knows I'm beyond interested [and, weirdly, definitely not interested at the same time_

_"Yup."_

_Those dark eyes stare straight through mine, and I have to look away, I have to peel at my beer bottle label. I have to laugh and turn on the sarcasm; my tension reliever since 1980._

_"Wow, finally, we were starting to think he'd never learn how to use that damn thing. But I guess Glen can make phone calls all on his own now, so, yay, good for him!"_

_She smiles, but it's in a very "I'm serious" kind of way, and I waste no time in following her silent command._

_"Ok, so he called. What did he want?"_

_But I already know very well what he wants._

_"Weeeell..." she's tentative, she's ready to throw that curve ball that I can't handle [and something tells me, she knows it "...he wants to go out again this weekend..." a deep breath "...with just me."_

_"Oh." I can't hide the defeat [for a reason I'm still so unsure of in my voice this time, but I quickly recover, "...that's cool."_

_"Is it?" She seems disbelieving, and I'm feeling more and more uncomfortable._

_What's going on here? Why is she looking at me like that, and why do I feel like I'm on fire?_

_"I mean, that's what you wanted, right?"_

_Please say no. Wait...why? Why do I need her to say no? I mean really, why does her dating Glen, hell anyone, why is it bothering me? No, why is it eating at me?_

_"I don't know..." I see something in her I've never seen before;_

_hesitant fear. And I know she's about to get honest with me, I know she's about to slowly start stripping herself, "...it feels kind of weird. Like, I'm wrong or something. Like it's wrong to do to you. That I have to talk to you about it, you know, run it by you first."_

_Oh, so that's whats going on here: Pity. And if there's anything I hate more than Ryan Seacrest, it's a pity party._

_My wounded pride shows, as I reply in a somewhat offended tone. "That's stupid, Ash, you should do what you want, don't worry about me."_

_"Oh no no..." Her words are leaving her lips fast, so fast, that it makes me even more nervous "...I'm not worried about you. No, that's not what I meant. I just..." There's that fear again, there's that deep breath, and this time it feels like she's gonna strip away everything, leaving her completely bare before me "...I just don't know if he's what I want. I don't know if that's what I want. Don't get me wrong, aside from being a jackass, your brothers nice..."_

_She smiles, and even though I feel like I'm going to explode from a bomb made of fear and confusion, I smile too. I can't help it; not when she's looking at me like that._

_"...But I think..." now her eyes are nowhere but on mine, searching, reaffirming. There's no fear in those eyes and there's only relief as she practically whispers "...no, I know, I could have something better, something more real, with someone else."_

_Oh God. That internal bomb just blew up and it's shattered me. I'm terrified. I'm sweating. I'm drinking gulp after gulp of what little beer I have left, and I'm jumping from the table; quickly retrieving another one._

_Is she talking about me? Does she want...something...with me?_

_"Spence?"_

_Sitting back down, looking at her through the bottle sitting between my lips, I widen my eyes. "Yeah?"_

_But it's lost in my swallows, and she looks sad. So sad._

_"You ok?"_

_"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." I've always been good at lying, and this time is no exception, except this time, someone reads through them. This time, she sees everything I hide, and it scares me shitless._

_Yes, I am scared shitless, cause I'm starting to see where this is going. I'm starting to understand what's had me lost, flustered, excited, confused, and frightened._

_"Spencer, come on, you're not fine, you're practically eating your bottles over there, and you won't even look at me." She pauses, reaching across the table to hold my trembling hand, and I know she feels just how shaky it is, cause she actually stills it between hers, "Hey, look I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. I mean, is that what's wrong? Was it something I said?"_

_"No..." I say, quietly, truthfully, feeling like I have to because she's holding me, "...no it wasn't anything you said."_

_It's the truth, but it's still a lie, cause it's exactly what she's said that has me acting like this. However she doesn't seem to realize it as she softly smiles. "Ok, then what is it?"_

_Her thumb strokes over my skin, so softly, so so softly, and that's it. That's what it is._

_She's what's wrong. This is what's wrong. This is not an innocent crush. This is something I still can't, and don't want to, put my finger on._

_Because if I do, then that means...that might mean I'm gay._

_And I can NOT get into that. I just can't. That means everything I've thought about my life, everything I've thought about me, isn't true. Nothing is as it was. And I can't break that. Because, as I've said, I'm the girl who doesn't break routine. I'm the girl who sets her desired path, and sticks to it, no matter what other forks tempt her_

_along the way._

_And this fork, this girl before me, she is so tempting. Too tempting. And I'm not ready for it. I'm not ready for her road._

_"Spence?" I break from my thoughts, realizing at some point I removed my hand from hers, leaving me colder than I was before. She looks so insecure. She looks so out of her element, and it hurts me, cause I know I've thrown her inside that unsure place, "...What's wrong?"_

_She's staring right inside me from across her small kitchen table. She's looking straight through me, and we've never been closer. In this moment, we see everything. We see everything we want. We read every word we're not saying._

_I can't let her see that far inside me, anymore. I can't let her see what I hide. I can't let her see me being...gay. I can't let her see that word, the one I hide so well. The one word I don't want to spell. Cause that word changes my whole freaking life._

_I'm just not ready for that, and what's even sadder; I don't think I'll ever be ready._

_And that's why I muster up the saddest smile in sad history as I look into her open and honest eyes. That's why I have to speak in the smallest voice I have, hoping with the tiniest sliver of hope that she'll still see the truth inside these lies I'm about to tell._

_"I think...I think you should call my brother."_

_"Spence..." She's not ready to let me take this road. She's still trying to give me strength. She's still reaching her hand across the table to keep me warm, and I'm still shutting her out. I'm shutting her right out, leaving us both with nothing but the freezing cold._

_"No, really, you should. I mean, you'll never know what could be real if you don't try, right?"_

_I say these hypocritical words, genuinely. These words that I should listen to. My own advice I should be taking. But I'm not. Because I'm too much of a coward. Because I don't have the balls._

_Because she should have had pity earlier. She so should have._

_I can feel the disappointment dripping from her, leaking all over this table, and filling every empty space inside me, as she just looks. She looks for a beat longer, one more beat, as if she were waiting. Waiting for me to change my mind. Waiting for me to say something else. For me to say the real words. The words she sees inside of me._

_The words she wished I would have said._

_But I'm not, and that one more beat is up. That one last hopeful breath has been breathed. And she sighs. She sighs in a way like she's giving up. And I'm colder than I've ever been._

_"Yeah, I guess you're right."_

_Through the smallness of her voice, through the sadness of her eyes, she still manages to wear a tiny Ashley smile, telling me it's ok. Telling me we're still ok._

_And I'd believe her, I mean I should believe her. But it's her eyes that mislead me, cause those eyes are once again telling me a separate story._

_Because it's one only I can read._

_"So..." one heavy sigh, and a deep swig of a vodka tonic, "...I guess I'm going out with your brother again."_

_"Yeah..." one regretful sigh, and a half-a-bottle swallow of beer "...Guess so."_

_With the excitement held for her yearly physical, she breathes out "Awesome."_

_And as I sadly glance down on the dinner she's made us, I look like I'm in the middle of one._

_"Yeah. Awesome."_


	5. Eater's Remorse

For close to two years I've been on a strict Ashley diet. Stricter than strict. I've been so good; maintaining those high calorie hug intakes, and sticking to healthy hand holding portion control. It's almost amazing how well I've done. Until now. Until the past couple of months came along, and I've slipped. I've been binging and midnight snacking, letting those lingering looks linger a beat too long. Letting those soft fingertips brush over my skin one too many times.

I can feel myself responding to the change. My body's filling with Ashley's love and touch. It's not good. I'm getting too used to it. I'm loving it too much. And soon, I know I'm just going to gain all the weight back, punting me all the way back to those months when I first met her. When all I could do was think of her in ways I absolutely couldn't. But the sad thing is, those were the months I absolutely could think of her that way. Those were the months I could have done something. Yup, those were the months I was thinner than I've ever been, completely capable and more than ready for her to fill me up inside. More than ready for her to wrap around my bones, and saturate my heart. Those were the months of indulgence. Those were the months of whipped cream and second helpings. Those were the months I never needed to diet, but those were the months I stupidly believed I needed to more than anything.

And today, tonight, I'm entering the overwhelming stages of eater's remorse; of Ashley remorse. Looking back on all the cakes and kisses I could have had, that I never tried out of fear. Out of insecurity.

Out of stupidity.

Yeah, those early months are my lost chance and I've been paying for it ever since. Except for recently. Recently where I've started to forget rules and morals. Counting calories and grams of fat. I've thrown it all out the window and am now unfairly taking what I've already so regretfully given up. And somewhere between Madisons Audi and Ashley's front door, I've realized it. I've realized it all too clearly.

I have to stop.

Because that smile is now gone, and the pit is back. But it's back as a boulder and it's weighing me down, so far down, that if I don't get rid of it soon, I'll never breathe again.

So as I stand before the door to their mansion [I guess Glens glorious Cavalier bench warming position does pay off I take the last tied down breath I have in me. I hold it in so tight, and push through that heavy wooden door, breathing it all out. I breathe it all out hoping to relieve the tension. But as I walk through their beautiful and empty house [feeling like its own breathing metaphor I only feel more afraid. More afraid than I can ever remember, solely because I'm not really sure what I'm more afraid of. With all these thoughts running through my mind, I don't know what scares me more; seeing Ashley, or never seeing her again. And for some reason, that ridiculous outlandish latter possibility feels more than that.

That frightening latter possibility feels more like an impending reality.

And that's what has me shaking as I make my way through this eerily quiet house, alone [Madison so far behind me in the car, fighting with Jack. I step through the echoing kitchen, hearing all the muffled laughter, music, and shouting coming from behind the clear sliding glass door before me. I stop and stare outside it, looking through the sea of familiar and unfamiliar faces; knowing that no matter how bad I feel or what I'm going through, there's always going to be that one all too familiar face I'm always going to want to see.

"There you are.."

And then I see it. I see her, leaning against the counter in this dimly lit kitchen, casually sipping a cool cocktail in her hand. It may be dark in here, but I can see her eyes, and in them I see something I haven't seen in a long time. I see intent. I see purpose. And I as try saying "hi" back, it merely comes out as a choked whisper. My voice lost somewhere deep in my throat, because I know her directions destination. I know her intent, her purpose, her goal.

I know her sights are set on me. I just don't know what her sights entail anymore. I'm so lost, I don't know what either of our intentions are anymore.

Movements so slow and drawn out, she strolls towards me; the air crackling and sparking with a tension I haven't felt in so long. And as she nears me, with lidded eyes, and a lazy smile, I know she's been drinking. I know she's been drinking a lot.

Her lips tug in a warm smile, before she wraps her arms around my neck, holding my ever stiffening body close to hers. So close. So teasingly, deliciously close. My heart thumps wildly inside my tight chest, and I hope to God she doesn't feel it.

"Where've you been?" It's the sweetest, softest whisper against my neck, and when she breathes "I've missed you." further across my skin, easily singing it, I have to pull away. I have to step back, and look down, feeling more guilty than I ever have before. Feeling so full of indulgence, I might vomit.

"Yeah, sorry, Madison was fighting with Jack."

"Oh well what else is new, right?" She giggles a giggle sprinkled in sadness, cause she sees right through me. Cause she sees my lies as clear as glass.

Cause she sees me pulling away, once again, and I know it's starting to more than get to her.

The air becomes so quiet with my lack of a response. Quieter than it's ever been between us. I can't keep my head up, because this is not how this night was supposed to start, and it's all my fault.

But it's just getting too hard. All of this, her, me, everything between us. Everything not between us. Everything that's festering inside me and having to keep it there.

And right now, with her so close, I don't know how much longer I can do it.

"Hey you." Her hands gently, carefully, cup my face, slowly pulling my eyes back to hers. She gives me a weak smile, and it only makes this all the more heartbreaking because it only makes it all the more real. Because I can't even muster a smile back. "...hey, Jelly, what's wrong?"

Jelly. One half of our synonymous Peanut Butter and Jelly nicknames. The names we use when we're serious. When she's serious. And this is one of those times. This is her comforting voice. This is her concerned voice. And the one thing I know, is I can't hear it tonight. Cause that voice always draws the worry out of me. That voice, that name, always unravels me, unwinds me, stringing out the truths I bury so well, so deep. And those can't be unburied. Not here and not tonight. So, I have to pull it together. I have to put on a smile. And I don't even worry if I can, because I know I can do this. I know I can because I have to.

Because, sadly, I have no other choice, and it's time I realized it.

"Nothing..." She's about to protest, but I shake my head, and as if it were a light switch turning her off, she stops, letting me continue, "...I'm fine, really I swear, I just need to get a drink."

She's about to open her mouth again, but I stop her "Please, Ash..." I'm actually pleading now, hardly able to meet her eyes "...please, just believe me, ok? Believe me and come with me to get a drink?"

She looks at me for what seems an eternity, before she solemnly smiles, nodding with a quiet "Ok."

Either too drunk, or too afraid, she lets it go. But I know she hasn't thrown it away. She's holding onto it, all of it so far inside her. Like the fullest hoarder, she holds all my mistakes. And I'm only starting to glimpse at the burden she wears because of it.

But I can't keep thinking about that. Not now. Not tonight. For now, I have to move on. For now, I'm ok. For now, I resisted temptation. I resisted dessert, and I feel light again. I feel safe and I breathe a fat sigh of relief because of it. I let that boulder disintegrate deep in my stomach as we start walking towards outside.

But as we push past those sliding doors, I feel so cold again. I feel so lonely with her right beside me, never farther away. Once again I'm tempted, and when she tentatively takes my hand in hers, I don't hesitate in slowly divulging myself. I don't hesitate in reassuringly grabbing her hand.

Tightly lacing my fingers with hers.

Two hours later, this party's moved inside, and I've kept myself right here on this couch. For the past hour, I've reserved myself on this right side cushion. Relaxing. Hiding. Drinking.

Completely miserable.

Madison never showed up, and while I don't know where she is, I'm sure she's over at Jack's. Either way she's not here. I haven't seen waste-case Aiden in forever, but judging from the last time I saw his droopy eyes, it's questionable if he's even still alive. But I don't really care about that either.

No I'm miserable because of her. Because she hasn't talked to me since the kitchen. Because she hasn't even tried.

I've tried meeting eyes with her, I've tried maintaining our silent conversation, cause I can't help myself. But she's shut me out. She won't even meet my eyes, making my attempts at explaining things with them fruitless. Nope, she's shut me out so tight, with not even a crack or window to peek through.

And now I know how she feels. Now I know what my own medicine tastes like, and boy is it bitter.

She's across the room from me, talking to some guy like she's never had a more thrilling conversation in her life. But I know the truth, I know the thrill's in having me watch her not watching me. She's getting off on getting me down, and it's making me even more sad.

Suddenly, the couch dips, a sloppy Aiden practically falling on top of me, resting his heavy head on my shoulder. And I'm so lonely, I practically jump with excitement because of it.

"How ya feelin' birthday boy?"

"Spencer." He pauses as if he's about to let me in on some huge revelation, before he loudly whispers in a voice ten octaves higher than his own, "...I ammmm taaaaanked."

The familiarity and affection of Aiden, makes the grand canyon void inside me fill up just the tiniest bit. A appreciative smile forming on my heavy lips, I pat his head in a motherly way.

"That you are, that you are."

"Yup."

I can't help but chuckle at his childlike ways, as he shifts a little more, clearly getting comfortable. I look out past the crowd, not even realizing I'm doing it, until I find Ashley. And it strikes me, cause this time she IS watching, and something tells me she's more upset than she was before.

I try to give her a little wave and a hopeful smile, but she turns away before I even get the chance.

"Spence?"

His voice is small, maybe even adorable, but I'm so caught up in that familiar face that now feels so unfamiliar, I'm barely listening as I vaguely ask, "Yeah, buddy?"

Realizing it's creepy, and probably more infuriating, if I keep staring, I let Ashley's avoiding attention go. Finally giving it to the-five-seconds-from-a-passed-out Aiden.

"I know I've been saying this since high school, but..." he takes a moment to breathe, clearly it's at that point in the night where both speaking and breathing at the same time is a challenge.

"What's that Aid?"

"Your brother...your brother is such an ass." He finishes with a snort, that falls somewhere between amusement and disgust. I'm not sure where here's going with this, but I decide to take the funny high road.

"You're right, you have been saying that since high school."

I laugh, pleased with my own wit, but he doesn't laugh. Nope, he's about to get into this, I can already tell.

"No, but I'm serious..." He pushes his body off mine, shaking the couch in an attempt to sit upright, "...I'm serious, Spencer, he's like... a real ass, like not even a likable one."

"Yeah."

I'm not really quite sure what to say, because he is my brother. Because he's my brother, but beyond that, Aiden's right. He is my brother, and he is a real ass.

"I meeeean..." Aiden draws out the word [clearly trying to gain more time to figure out just what exactly he means "...I mean, look at all this, Spencer..." Aiden's hands clumsily shoot to either side, one grazing my boob, but somehow he doesn't even notice, he's so worked up, "...I mean, look at her, Spencer." Now he's pointing both hands straight at Ashley, and I'm not sure I want to look there. I'm not sure I can anymore.

But Aiden has other intentions, as his hand whacks my arm/boob again, I realize he needs me to look. So I do, this time with no hesitation, and I find her by herself, leaning against the wall on one slumped shoulder; looking like the loneliest girl in the world.

"Ok, Aid..." I continue, softly "...I'm looking."

"Good. Now listen to me." And I'm going to, no matter how slurred and slow Aidens words are, he's got my attention.

"...Your brother, that asshole, he's got the world, you know, he's got everything a person could want, and I don't just mean the money stuff. I mean he has what some people can't buy. But he doesn't deserve it, and what's worse, he doesn't even want it. Because if he did...if he did, he'd be here. He'd be here with her. He's such an ass, man, he's just..." He shakes his head, losing himself in his own thoughts.

He's quiet for a moment, until he turns his eyes from me to Ashley, and suddenly I'm right with him. Suddenly every slurred word he's said is crystal clear. Every incoherent thought he's expressed is more coherent than anything he's ever said.

"Look at that gorgeous girl, Spence, I mean really look at her. Look at her so you're really seeing her. She's freakin' amazing..." one deep, defeated breath "...and she's miserable. She's so miserable."

The word makes me search for her again. The word shoots through my heart. Because as I find her, talking to no one, slowly sipping her drink, I know it's completely accurate. I know it's painfully accurate. I know every one of Aiden's words are right. Glen is an asshole. Ashley isn't happy. And all I feel is more guilt, cause suddenly it all feels so much like my fault.

We both sit there, mulling over his words, until his head flops down into my lap, smiling eyes closing as he let's out a breezy laugh. I guess we're over the heavy conversation, cause he keeps laughing more and more. And I'm actually thankful, I'm actually laughing with him, because where ever we were just heading, I shouldn't be going. Not tonight, not on this already overwhelming night. So I let it go.

But I don't throw it away.

"This was a great birthday, Spencer. Thank you."

I warmly, and somewhat pitifully, smile down on him.

"Hey now, it's not over yet."

"Oh yeah, it's not over till you and me are watching the sun rise together, right?"

Oh brother, are we really about to go down memory lane?

"Remember those days, Spence?"

I roll my eyes, but it's sincere, cause I do remember those days, and they'll always mean something special to me.

"Of course I do."

"Good." He punctuates his satisfaction with a nod, before he abruptly [and clumsily sits up from my lap. Facing me with eyes that are trying so hard to open wide, but can only manage half mast, he exclaims "...now let's do a shot!"

Laughter spills from me, as I tap his nose. "You, my friend, are a mess."

Lips drawing into a goofy grin, he practically slurs, "A messy mess."

"The messiest messy mess."

We both seem content with the title, as it becomes silent, and I know we're about to have a moment.

"I love ya, Spence."

I sigh in faux-indignance, before I warmly smile right back at him.

"Yeah. I guess I love you too...even if you can be the world's biggest perv.'

"You know you love it."

We both laugh and look at each other a moment longer. Just enjoying each others company, just enjoying our history and our present. Loving how easily everything still comes.

And then I'm not there anymore. I'm not on that couch. I've been ripped from it, and I'm being pulled through groups and groups of people. A tight, angry hand holding mine, but even inside its blatant fury, all I feel is her soft comforting touch.

We barrel up the stairs, two at a time, running right inside her bedroom's bathroom. I'm practically pushed into the middle of the room, as the door closes behind me. I slowly turn, terrified, as I find a very pissed off Ashley leaning back against the door. Hand holding the handle, as if she's afraid I'll try to leave.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"What?" I'm so caught off guard I try to not sound indignant, but that's exactly how I sound as I ask. And she notices, she notices and it only makes her more mad.

"Seriously, what's going on? Are you..." She swallows hard, twice, and for a moment I think she might vomit "...are you back together with Aiden, is that what's going on?"

Oh. God. And now I feel like I'm going to vomit. It's such a ridiculous notion, that I can't suppress the laughter spilling from my lips.

"Do you think this is funny?"

She is not amused, she's so hurt, that I don't waste any time in reassuring her, "No, Ash, not at all, but seriously Aiden? Where would you ever get that idea?"

"Oh, I don't know, let me see here..." her eyes roll to the ceiling, as if she were about to count off reasons "...you ignore me and avoid me all night. No, for weeks now. You can barely stand to touch me. And then tonight, just now, I see you two all over each other, laughing and talking and joking. I mean what else should I believe?"

"That we're friends?" I ask in a way that's not a question, it's a fact I'm telling her in a rude way, cause I can't believe she's angry over this. That she could possibly think I'm back together with Aiden.

"Like we used to be."

She whispers it so defeated, and it knocks the air out of me.

"Used to be?" I croak.

"Well am I wrong? You keep pushing me away, Spencer. You keep pushing, that I'm afraid one day you'll never find me."

"What?"

I'm feeling lost again, lost inside our conversation. Inside this fight. Inside her anger.

"I mean, what the fuck is going on Spencer? And, seriously save whatever lies you're going to use. Please don't insult me anymore with those 'nothing's wrong I'm just tired' excuses ok?" She's so angry, she's so freaking angry, but suddenly, all at once it disappears. Her fury is gone, and she's only sad. She's so sad as she quietly asks, "...please, Spencer, just tell me what's going on. Please."

It breaks my heart, and takes all the left over pieces with it. She's bypassing all that Aiden bullshit, and opening the real issue here. She's finally getting down to everything I've been hiding. And I don't know what to say. I have nothing to say, because all she's asking for is the truth, and that is something I can never give her.

So instead I look at her with wet eyes. Silent, screaming, wet eyes.

"Please."

She whispers, sounding as heartbroken as I feel, and I just stand there. Frozen.

With one nod, she eviscerates me. "Ok, then."

The angers back inside her now, but it's not shouting anymore, it's seething, and it's so much worse than before. It hits so much harder. Because this time it seems so much more final.

And as she turns, walking through that door, slamming it shut behind her. It doesn't just seem final.

It feels it.


	6. Breaking Boulders

"_So..."_

"_Buttons."_

"_Spencer, really, when are you gonna understand that that joke is not funny and makes absolutely no sense."_

"_The day you finally understands that it DOES make sense, and that it IS funny."_

_Ashley lets out an adorable laugh, and I smirk, feeling like my work here is done. Rolling onto my back on this softer than soft beach towel, the smirk follows me, as the hot sun spreads across my skin like static. _

_This is how it's been for the past couple of months. This is how it's been for Ashley and me. It's so easy, too easy at times. We ebb and flow. We ying and yang. We compliment and contrast._

_Ok, you get the picture, here. We just fit. And it's amazing. I've never had a friendship like this. Hell, I've never had a person in my life like this. A person who I learn so much from, who inspires me. Who weaves through all my threads, and pulls them together, tying them tighter than they've ever been._

_A person who I do the exact same for._

_In all honesty, I never thought this would happen. In all honesty, I feared we'd never find our way towards friendship after what happened at Ashley's that one night. That night where she tried to tell me something I couldn't hear. Where she almost revealed a secret truth buried inside her. Where she almost revealed the same secret truth dwelling inside me._

_But she only managed "almost"._

_And maybe that's why we've ended up here; inside a place I never thought we'd end up. But somehow, we have. Somehow, months later, we've found ourselves on the wide lawn of our favorite park; just soaking in the late spring sun on a lazy Saturday afternoon._

_No complications. _

_Ashley sighs a very troubling sigh, and suddenly the sun doesn't feel as warm._

_Yeah, about that complications thing...it's not completely accurate._

"_Anyway..." I can't help but squint one eye her way, finding her fidgeting with her fingers, knowing whatever she's going to say is one of those "complications." _

"_...has your, uh, brother talked to you?"_

_Ah. Yes. Him. Should have known he'd come up sooner or later. I don't know what the status of their relationship is, all I know is that they basically have one. We hardly ever talk about it. And by hardly, I mean practically never. I'm not sure why. It's kind of like one of those "if it ain't broke, don't fix it" situations. We mesh so well, why bring up something that has the potential to unmesh?_

_Of course, we're too busy appreciating our comfort zones, we don't stop to think about why Glen would shake us from them._

_Well that's not true._

_I'm not too busy. I think about it. I think about it a lot. But if Ashley isn't going to say anything, then I'm definitely not. Because I'm the one who put us here. Because it's her relationship. Because I don't want to leave our safe bubble either. _

_Because I'm perfectly content to live inside it for as long as the air will carry us._

_But judging by Ashley's hesitancy and constant finger picking, I know our little bubble's about to be tested. And I'm not sure I want it to._

"_Yeah, he's talked to me. But if there was an important or meaningful point inside the conversation, I'm sorry, I didn't catch on to it. You know I don't speak his breed of moron."_

_I smile, content with the deflection and jab at my brother. Jabbing him solely because he's connected to Ashley in a way I don't want to define._

"_Spence..." Her tone is so sad and serious, I can already feel the bubble deflating. "...No more jokes."_

"_Ok..." I practically whisper, feeling something plant itself low in my stomach, "...he hasn't talked to me. Was he supposed to?"_

_I can't look at her, but I know she's looking straight at me._

"_No. But I thought I should tell you...I thought you should know he invited me to your family's Sunday dinner tomorrow night."_

_Oh._

"_Oh..." I want so badly to make a joke, I want so badly to hide my pain with my humor, but I can't. There's just not enough wind in my sails for that. There's hardly enough wind for me to merely reply._

"_Spence?"_

_The implications of what this means, has stunned me. Has stunned me into honesty._

"_A Sunday dinner..." It comes out so absent minded, that it's questionable if I'm talking to her, or myself "...wow, he must really like you..." before I even finish saying it, I hear how it must sound to her, and am quick to recover "...I mean, of course he likes you..." I take a deep breath, and suddenly, my voice falls so silent in such beautiful honesty, that I hardly recognize it, "...Of course he really likes you, how could he not? It's you."_

_She doesn't say anything, and I don't know if it's a good thing or not, but the truth somehow keeps spilling from my lips._

"_I guess...what I mean is..." I squint towards the sun, knowing how bad it is, knowing I shouldn't be doing it, but I do it anyway, "...you must really like him if you're coming to a Sunday dinner."_

_Bingo. That's what has me stunned. That's what has me sinking deep inside the darkness of my heart. That's what just burst my pretty little Spashley bubble._

"_Hey, Spence, look at me."_

_But her soft, comforting, voice pulls me from the darkness. Her words begin the impossible process of patching together our invisible walls. The see through walls of our world. The flimsy walls that keep us safe. And I listen, I don't even blink an eye, as I roll over on my beach towel towards her; Laying on my side, solemn face to her reassuring one._

"_I want you to promise me something, ok?"_

_I only nod, knowing anything I could possibly say would lose itself in the air between us. _

"_Ok, I want you to always be honest with me. No matter what we go through. No matter what happens. Please be honest. Don't..." she takes a breath, knowing she's about to hit a sore subject "...don't hide behind your humor. Don't run away from what hurts you. Don't run away from what you feel."_

_Her eyes scan down between us, as if they're running away from me, and I don't know how I feel about it. I don't know how I feel about any of this, but I stay quiet. I stay quiet and listen. Ready to take in whatever she's gonna give me._

"_I need you to do that for me, k? I need you to, cause..." Finally those eyes lock with mine, but this time, they're smiling "...you're my Jelly."_

_I can't sustain the smile creeping over my lips, as I softly say "You're what now?"_

"_My Jelly." She smiles in a way like it's the most normal thing she's ever said, "...Ok, hear me out, I swear this makes sense...but my mom used to make the best peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I mean Best, not mediocre, not really good. No we're talking the best, here. Ok?" I give her a quick nod, not needing any more Best pictures drawn for me, "...anyway, she used to make 'em a lot. You know, breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And as a kid I was like, 'Awesome, PB & J for dinner!', Great. Cool. Amazing. Because I was nine, and I didn't what what it meant, you know? I didn't understand that I was having PB & J for dinner because there was nothing else to eat. Because we didn't have enough money to buy anything else."_

_She takes a deep breath, and all I want to do is touch her. Hold her. _

_But I don't._

"_Anyway, mom would make me these sandwiches, these simple sandwiches that were so much more than simple. I survived on them. Two pieces of bread with two condiments between them, and it got me through some hard days. So many hard days. With a smile on my face, it got me through a hard life."_

_A thoughtful sigh. _

"_People underestimate the power of a good peanut butter and jelly."_

_She chuckles, but nothing about what she's saying is lighthearted. No, it's far from it, and I know every word out of her mouth is something I'll treasure for the rest of my life._

"_But to make the perfect PB & J sandwich, you gotta have equal amounts of both. As my mom always said, you can't go easy on either. You have to put as much Jelly on one one half, as you did Peanut Butter on the other. Because if one suffers, so will the other. If one isn't fully there, the other won't taste nearly as good."_

_I'm following her, but I'm not. I don't know how this ties into us, but I'm not going to question it. No, I'm just lying on my side, watching the way her eyes look straight through mine. Reveling in every single second of it._

"_You're my Jelly, Spence. You are my Jelly. And...and I hope I'm your Peanut Butter. I hope our friendship is that best sandwich for you, as it's become for me. Because you have no idea what our friendship means to me, but I still hope you do. I hope you have some kind of an idea. I hope I've made you see just what you are for me..." There's that deep breath again, and I'm realizing it's similar to one you'd make before jumping out of an airplane "...but it scares me, sometimes, when you close up. When you bottle up whatever's going on inside you. You think I can't tell, but I can. I can, and I understand it. I do. But if you keep doing it, you'll suffer, and that makes me sad..."_

_Her eyes take a trip between us, before they smile back up at me again._

"_...because when Jelly suffers, Peanut Butter suffers."_

_I don't know what to say. And it looks like she doesn't either. So we don't say anything at all. Somehow, we both know we don't need to. Somehow, her words about a children's sandwich are the most beautiful ones I've ever heard. Those words are enough to fill the space between us. _

_They're enough to fill us...fill me, forever. _

"_You have something..." Her hand reaches out towards me, carefully, tentatively, and it takes everything in me to not move away. It takes everything in me to remain brave, allowing her to graze above my eyebrow with her soft fingers. "...right here."_

_I feel her sweep away whatever was there, and then I feel her hand still on me. I feel her fingers lightly, so so delicately, pulling strands of hair from my face. Pulling them gently behind my ear. _

_And it takes everything in me to not close my eyes because of it._

"_God Spence..." Her breathy voice pulls my unfocused eyes right to hers, focusing like they've never seen anything clearer. "...how the hell are you single?"_

_And then her hands are off of me. Her hands are now tucked beneath her chin, tied to her other one, and I'm speechless. Between the Jelly and the Peanut Butter, and the God Spence's, I'm so freaking lost. But that's not it, I'm not lost. I'm found. I'm more found than I've ever been._

_I'm right back inside our safe bubble._

"_So, J..." she flashes me the most heartwarming smile, "...you promise?"_

_With that smile, I don't have to wait a second to answer. With that smile, she could ask for anything, and I'd give her everything back._

"_I promise, PB."_

_-------------------_

My eyes hopelessly scan that same sea of faces; searching for one I fear I'll never find again.

Tonight has been a disaster. A disaster that keeps tumbling and crumbling, getting worse with every passing minute. I thought rock bottom would have been the bathroom. I mean, it SHOULD have been the bathroom. Because Ashley was supposed to come back. She was supposed to push back inside that door, mere minutes after slamming outside it, to console me. To hold me. To make it right. To be with me, cause I can't be without her. Cause she knows it. Cause she always comes back to make sure I believe it. So I believe she can't be without me either.

Twenty minutes I spent, hands held over my stinging eyes, inside her shiny bathroom; waiting for her. Twenty minutes I waited and waited, hoping and hoping, she'd come back.

But she never did.

Not this time.

She didn't need me to know anything this time. And when I finally did leave that bathroom, I found her looking like she hardly cared I spent any time waiting at all. I found her looking like she could care less about anything I was doing, had ever done, and never did.

Never said.

The party continued on, fleshed out, and wound down. All the while I watched her, without any care about who would see. Without any worry about what they'd think. All [iI[/i wanted was to see what [ishe'd[/i think. All [iI[/i wanted was to see if [ishe[/i cared.

All I found was nothing.

This time she actually seemed happy, thrilled even, inside her conversations. Not because I was watching. Not because she knew it. But because the eyes she looked through, weren't mine. Because the words she heard, weren't my lying ones.

It cut deep. So deep. And it only went deeper when I knew I deserved it. When all I could feel was how much I deserved it.

I let a deep sigh push past my worn out lips, not able to hold it in anymore.

I would have gone home a long time ago, if only Madison were here to go home with me. If only Madison were here to pick up the pieces that Ashley always not only picks up, but easily puts back together. But Madison's not here, and Ashley's not making any moves to get close to me, let alone fix my mistakes. So that merely leaves me and my shattered self to sit on this couch, wondering why I didn't get into that cab with an equally shattered [but for completely different reasons Aiden.

But I know the reason, and I'm sure you do too. I'm here, and not safely home, because this is where I want to be. Cause this is where I need to be. Cause I can't let those twenty minutes be the only minutes I waited. I can't let them define this night for us.

Cause it's my turn to come back. It's my turn to let her know how much I need her. It's my turn to make sure she believes it.

I need to see her. I need to talk to her. And as I watch her lead the last group of party goers to the front door, I don't waste anytime following her there.

Ready to do some right making.

I tentatively step into the hall, watching the tipsy and tired group crawl their way down the front steps, before I rightfully turn my attention to her. To Ashley. And she's just looking at me, neither caring or not caring. She's just looking, not even at me, but through me. And not in the way like she's looking inside me. No she's looking through me in a way like I'm not even here.

And if she's trying to make me feel like I don't matter, it's working. It's beyond working, because I feel invisible under those same eyes that used to make me feel more alive than anything.

She holds the door open in her hand. Almost as if she were waiting. Waiting for me to take the hint she's so bluntly putting out there.

She wants me to take her open door invitation and walk right through it. She wants me to leave, and maybe she knows I'm not going to, or maybe she thinks even her good mannered invitation feels too generous. I'm not sure what she's thinking, for the first time her walls are so tightly surrounding her, I can't see inside. All I know is, she just shut that front door, without a word, and walked right past me.

She just walked right through me.

Leaving me even more shattered than before.

But I still follow her, albeit shakily, right into the kitchen, the breeding grounds for where this night got off to such a bad start. The breeding grounds for my endless stupidity.

"Ash."

"Don't."

No one said this was going to be easy, especially me, but her even tone makes me wonder if it's even possible.

But I keep trying.

"Ashley wait-"

"Go home, Spencer."

She's still walking away from me, and I'm still following her like a lost and wounded puppy, because that's exactly what I've become.

"Please, Ash, can we just talk about this?"

She doesn't blink an eye, as she shoots right back, so monotone.

"Please, Spence, can you just go home?"

There's nothing inside her. Absolutely nothing. She's not angry. She's not sad. She's not anything, she's indifferent. And that is so much worse than any of that other stuff, cause indifference is uncaring. Indifference is feeling nothing for something.

And that's what does me in. That is what wets my stinging dry eyes. Cause all I am is caring. Cause all I am is sad. Cause all I feel is everything for something.

Cause all I feel is everything for her.

"Ashley, please, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." The voice pouring from my blubbering lips is so strange and foreign, I actually wonder if it's even mine. Ashley looks like she might think the same thing, cause her hands still over the sink, where she's doing the dishes. And judging from the way her hands begin to shake, I know it's to busy herself. I know it's to keep her inside that locked, cold place. Cause I can see it now, I can see it so clearly; she's cracking, and I'm not letting this opportunity slip away from me.

No, I'm right there, chiseling away at the tiny fissures. Hammering and nailing until she breaks. Until she's completely broken and open to me once again.

"Won't you look at me, at least?"

This time, she doesn't hesitate in swinging around, shooting her enraged eyes straight through mine.

"Why, so I can see you lie again? Cause I gotta be honest Spence, that's a look I'd rather not see anymore. That's a look that's growing really old and tired on [iyou[/i."

I nod, solemnly, just taking it. Deserving it. Feeling it slowly burn my guilty body on fire. So slowly, that the tears now pour from my eyes like waterfalls. The tears for all of this. The tears for the tears I've never cried. The tears for the tears I hide, along with everything else.

Yup, I'm a weeping mess, and for a brief, shining moment, she looks like she wants to comfort me.

But she doesn't. Not tonight. As quickly as she turned to me, she's back at the sink, working away at the dishes. Disregarding me.

"I'm sorry, Ashley." I meant it to come out strong, hoping it could show my sincerity. But it only comes out as a croak. A whisper almost. And it only makes me cry more.

" I just..." I breathe deep, trying to pull it together, needing to pull something together more than I ever have, cause all I feel is her slipping through my wet fingers "...I just don't know what's going on anymore. I'm so confused, I'm so lost, that I don't know where I even am. That's the honest-to-God truth." And it is, through my weepy voice, and salty eyes, I've never been more honest.

Finally, she stills over the sink. Finally she cracks a little more, as her voice quietly assures me, "I know, but you promised me Spence. You promised me you'd always be honest. And this vague honesty you've been giving me, that you've always given me...it's not good enough, anymore. I need more than that, now." She keeps her eyes on the running water streaming into the empty sink, like the steady tears streaming inside my empty heart.

She's right. She does need more than that, and right now, I going to try giving it to her.

"I know, Ashley. You do. You deserve so much more than that. The truth is..." I take the shakiest, fullest breath of my life, exhaling the closest thing to a confession I can muster. "...the truth is I'm confused and I'm scared. I'm so scared, you have no idea."

She nods lightly, shutting off the tap, slowly turning towards me. And even though her eyes aren't looking at mine, I can still see inside them. I can still see everything I've been missing. Everything I've been searching for. Her eyes are concerned. Her eyes care. And finally I can breathe. Finally I can breathe in and out with nothing lost between.

Her eyes slowly turn to mine, and with a voice so patently Ashley, she softly asks, "What are you scared of?"

It's the million dollar question. It's the money question, with really, the money answer. It unlocks all the secrets stored away in my small safe. It unlocks it all. And all I want to do is give her those secrets. All I want to do is give her everything inside me, handing her the key to all my locks, whispering for her to 'keep 'em'.

But I can't. Not now. Not tonight.

But I can still try.

"I'm scared..." my hands push inside my pockets, as if it could help hide my vulnerability, "...I'm scared of the future. I'm scared of where I'm heading. I'm scared of where I'm not heading..." I take that same cliff jumping breath and look back up to her face, not even realizing I had ever looked somewhere else. Not comprehending I ever could.

In the darkness of this dimly lit kitchen, I can still see her eyes, and in them I see the same tears that are effortlessly spilling from mine. And it spurs me on.

"...I'm terrified of the past. It keeps...it keeps me up at night, you know? Thinking over all the things I didn't do. All the words I never said. How different things would be if I had said them. How much better my life would be if I was...if I was only brave enough to be honest with...myself."

The silence is louder than anything I've ever heard; the occasional sound of water dripping from the sink, cutting through the air like a knife.

"I'm scared of turning twenty seven alone. I'm afraid to turn thirty seven alone. I'm absolutely terrified of living alone at fifty seven. Because I don't want to still be living this life I live now. I don't want to live my middle aged years the way I've lived the past ten..." I can barely get the words out between my sobs, as I sum it all up.

"I'm afraid of living alone forever."

"Spencer, you are not alone." Each word is punctuated inside her shaky breath, and it infuriates me cause I know where she's going with it.

"Yes, Ashley, I am."

"No you're not, you have me."

And she just went there. She just went exactly where I knew she would, and it hurts so much that it kind of kills me.

"I do not have you, Ashley."

Finally, she moves closer to me, pain written all over her features. "How can you say that, Spence? How can you...How can you feel that way?"

Her voice gets lost in her emotion, her voice gets lost in the truths we know we're starting to uncover. And I know it's time.

I know it's time I remained true to that promise I made so long ago.

"Because...I don't have you, Ash..."

I lean over that cliff, sucking in the deepest breath I've ever had. Like I'll never take another one again, and as I breathe it out, I breath out a truth with it. A truth so big, it feels like a boulder tumbling from my quivering lips.

"Glen does."


	7. Two Words

_Two words. Just two words uttered from my terrified lips._

_Two words become a ball. The largest most delicate glass ball. And it's dropping. So slowly down to the floor. Moving like a timeline of our lives. Rushing like a river of our memories. Everything between us. Everything not between us. Dropping and dropping, till it all meets the ground. Breaking and shattering everywhere. Leaving all our pieces to slip beneath our scared and frozen feet._

_Everything just crashed down on us, so hard, right onto both our lives. Splitting our joint life in two. And those two words are the line._

_The line between Before..._

"_Glen does."_

_...and After._

_And an eternity passes._

_And the water keeps dripping from the faucet._

_Drips and drips till it hammers. Hammers through this painful silence. Hammers rhythmically, timing perfectly with my lazy and tired tears. And the silence continues. On and on. Forever dragging on, with that two word line echoing off every wall. Every surface. Every breath rumbling from both our panting mouths._

_I don't know when she moved, if she ever even did, but she's so close to me now. So close, I feel every one of her shaky breaths slicing right into me. Dripping so deep inside my body._

_Filling every empty space._

_Neither one of us are doing anything. With so much said, so much almost said, so much implied, I thought one of us would do something. With a line drawn between us, I thought one of us would cross it. I thought she'd be the one to cross it. Cross it and carry us, bringing us far away from it. Because she's the one who always does something. She always makes it better. But for the first time, Ashley looks stunned. Ashley looks unreadable. Ashley looks like she doesn't know how to make anything better._

_And it only makes breathing that much harder._

"_Ash..." Water splatters against perfect porcelain, drumming her imperfect silence louder "...say something."_

_Nothing._

_And over the rain of this kitchen, I find myself pleading in a voice so familiar, a voice I heard inside her not so long ago. "Please. Please just...say something...anything."_

_I swear the air sparks with tension, as she finally looks at me. Cause while her eyes may have been on me this whole time, they're not just on me now; they're inside me. They're so far inside, they feel like they're literally holding onto me._

_And for a brief moment, it feels like they'll never let me go. A brief moment, before she speaks._

"_I..." it comes out so scratchy, like she's never used her voice before "...I have to..." her eyes look into mine, once more, as she takes a tentative step my way, and then she takes it right back. Taking every step she's ever given me right back inside her._

"_...I'm sorry..."_

_As fast as my two words drew a line, hers just drew another one. But drew it so much faster._

_Because she's already gone._

_And I'm still here. With nothing more than a leaky faucet timing with my leaky eyes._

----------------

"Spence?"

My eyes hold onto the empty chair across from mine. Holding on to what isn't there, and wishing for everything that usually is.

"What?" I absently ask to practically no one, as my father chuckles lightly.

"You ok?"

I blink, needing to tear myself away from her vacant chair, finally focusing on my fathers concerned eyes. Needing to let go of last night, needing to let go of everything that went wrong. Needing to let go of everything I know I've lost and needing to embrace everything I still have. Needing to embrace another Sunday family dinner. A family dinner minus the family. Minus the Ashley.

And, ultimately, minus myself.

"Yeah, sorry, I'm fine, just tired."

Both he and my mother share a laugh and a knowing look, "I'm sure. You guys really outdid yourselves last night, huh?"

My fathers lightheartedness breaks my heavy heart. My fathers unknowing words hit me in the softest, sorest, spot I've got.

"Yeah...I guess." I sigh so heavily, so miserably, that I can't believe no one notices. I can't believe no one asks what's wrong. It surprises me when I realize how much I want them to. It floors me when I realize how much I need them to.

And it reminds me of being a little girl in grade school. A little girl who can't tell her parents all that's upsetting her because they'll never understand. Because they don't know what it's like to be thirteen with a crush. Because they don't know how hard your life is. Because you naively believe they've never had it as hard as you.

Because you foolishly underestimate just how hard they've had it, and just how much they really do understand.

"I just hope Ashley feels better, she didn't sound too good on the phone."

My mother speaks through her coffee, stilling her mug before her lips, looking down on the table with genuine concern. Thoughtfully nodding her head in the way mothers always do.

She's always loved Ashley. Loved her like she were another daughter. And while it thrills me, while it's amazing to have Ashley so warmly welcomed into our family. It kills me more. It absolutely drowns me. Because Ashley's tied to this warm and welcoming family through someone who isn't me.

And after last night, I don't know if she's even tied to me at all.

"Maybe we should bring her our leftovers. Since Glen's gonna be away for a few more nights, I'm sure she'd appreciate it. What do you think Spence? I mean you're probably swinging by there on your way home anyway right?"

My fathers hearty smile twists that twisted knife further inside my chest. Because not only do I think it's a bad idea, I know it is. I know it all too well. Because all I've done is call Ashley. All I've done is gone by her house.

All I've received is nothing. And I don't have it in me to take on anymore nothings.

I don't have it in me to keep facing a face that isn't there. A face that doesn't want to see mine. She's made that clear. She made that abundantly clear when she walked away from me. When I gave her all she wanted, and she gave me everything I feared in return. She turned me down and with it, she turned me inside out. I'm so reversed and disoriented, I'm like a lost sheep, trying to find my way back. Trying to find myself.

But really, what I'm trying to find, is her. And she's nowhere.

I've tried to get back to her all day. After going home a weeping puddle last night, I knew I had to make things right today. I had to find her. I had to talk to her.

I had to take it all back. I had to erase the line.

But as every one of my calls went unanswered. As every one of my knocks on her door went unopened, I realized it was impossible. I realized I can't erase the past. I can't rewrite my truths. And then I realized it. I sadly realized I don't want to. Because I shouldn't. Because those truths have allowed me to breathe. Those truths have given me some kind of a life back.

My eyes solemnly glance across the table where her lonely chair still sits. Sitting there so empty.

So empty like the life I've been given back.

"So what do you say, Spence?"

Eyes never leaving her chair, I mumble between heavy lips, "Hmmm?"

"The leftovers. Will you drop them off for Ashley?"

I frown. I foolishly frown in front of the one man who knows I never frown. And while I'm quick to form the most manufactured smile ever, I'm not sure I'm quick enough.

"Um, she probably wants to rest, you know, I'm sure she doesn't want anyone to disturb her."

My father gives my flickering eyes the once over, maybe finally seeing how miserable I really am. And I feel a tiny piece of relief flutter inside me. A piece of relief for an outlet. Relief to release the rest of the weight living inside me.

"Spence, I think If there's anyone that girl would want to see right now...I'm absolutely positive it's you." My father smiles, genuinely smiles, and I feel even more miserable. For the words he's saying, and for the frowns he's missing.

Yup, for those unnoticed frowns, I hear my heart beginning to crack. And as my mother proudly corrects him, "...Well, aside from Glen."

I feel that heart shatter into a million little pieces.

I hate Sunday nights. Always have. I don't know why, but for some reason, after the sun goes down on a Sunday night, I become anxious. So anxious. I feel all these non-existent loose ends, and suddenly, I need to tie them. Suddenly, there's something I need to fix, something serious, and it's something I've only just remembered.

Because that's the thing, there's always something to remember. Whether I realize it or not, there's always something to take care of. Something I can do. And tonight, as I solemnly walk through my front door, I don't even know where to begin. I don't know which thread to tie first.

No, I don't know which impossible knot needs untying first. Because inside my stomach, there feels like there's a million of those little bundles, and I'm tired of them. I'm so damn tired of them.

There's only one light on in the living room, and it makes me feel so lonely. Because it reminds me that Madison is probably in her room, with Jack, living her perfect unknotted life.

And it make me realize Madison no longer knows anything about my imperfect knotted one.

Madison hardly knows anything about me anymore.

The thought is so heartbreaking that it sends more tears out of my eyes. And as I reach my bedroom door, I'm halfway to becoming that same puddle I was last night.

For an unknown reason, I take a deep breath before opening my door. Suddenly feeling as though something huge is about to happen. Suddenly feeling all those knots tie themselves extra tight.

And as I finally walk inside, I find the reason. I find her. Standing right there, in the middle of my mess of a room, is Ashley. Her eyes mirroring my weepy ones, her arms holding her body in the way I wish someone would hold me.

In the way I wish she'd hold me.

"Ash?"

I whisper, so softly, afraid she might run away again.

She doesn't say anything, though, and it makes me nervous. So nervous. The way her eyes painfully look into mine, the way they look so hurt, it only makes me more scared. Makes me think of all the possible reasons I'm staring at her right now in this very moment. Maybe she's here to say goodbye. Maybe she's here to tell me to never come around again. Or, maybe, she's here to tell me the one thing I just can't hear. The one thing that will absolutely obliterate me.

Maybe she's in love with my brother. Maybe he does have her. Maybe he has her in the way I've always believed I've had her.

Because, maybe, I never ever had her at all.

This last thought makes me so unbelievably sad and insecure, that I have to turn away. I have to walk away from her silence. I have to because I can't bare to hear it any longer. I'm about to turn around, heading to a place I don't know of yet, but knowing it's somewhere I need to go.

But then a soft, yet firm, hand reaches out for mine. A gentle, caring, hand turns me around so slowly. Pulling me to face nothing but her honesty. Facing me with nothing but everything she is, somehow allowing me to see all of her all at once, as she holds my hand tighter.

"No, Spence..."

My legs feel so wobbly, I don't know how they're still holding me up. I don't know how I'm still breathing, as she becomes so serious, realizing she's about to say whatever she came here to say. And I know whatever it is, she's going to break me with it.

"...He doesn't have me."

Like that, her breathy, raspy words break me. Her honesty breaks me right in half, and I can't breathe. I can't feel my legs. I can't feel anything except for my drumming heart, as she raises our linked hands to her chest; holding them directly over her own thumping heart.

"He doesn't have this."

I'm crying now. I'm crying so hard, feeling every fat tear running so sloppily down my wet cheeks. And as she steps towards me, I see the same tears refeleced in her eyes. I hear both our broken breaths, pushing out of our broken mouths. We're falling apart, but we're slowly pulling each other together. And she keeps moving. Moving right towards me, so slowly, giving me all my steps back. Giving me everything I've been missing, as she wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me right to her. So softly, so truthfully, she whispers right inside my ear and it slides straight into my heart.

"He doesn't have any of it, Spence, and he never has."

And I'm a goner. I'm holding onto her with my life, equally surrounding my body with hers. With no intentions of ever letting go. Because she just single handedly unraveled all my knots, and tied together all my loose ends.

Because, right now, in this moment, she doesn't just make me feel alive. She's given me a life. A perfect, unknotted life.

And, now...now I can breathe.


	8. Hands

_"Things with you and John..." Ashley nonchalantly asks into the air between us, giving her attention to everything inside The Bean except for the girl sitting across from her; the girl who just happens to be me, "...Things are, uh, going well?"_

_"John...?"_

_"The guy you're dating?"_

_"Oh riiiight, John, the love of my life, how could I forget!" I teasingly draw out, dressing myself in a fake suit of pride "...things are unbelievable. Absolutely thrilling, really."_

_She smirks, in a strange way, and sips her coffee thoughtfully, "You are one strange girl, Spence."_

_"Better than being boring."_

_Once again I dress myself in the genuine, hoping she doesn't see the sadness inside me. Hoping she doesn't see that I see the same sadness reflected in that smirk of hers. Hoping she doesn't see how uncomfortable it makes me feel. How unbelievably uncomfortable I feel right now. Because I know what she's doing, it's what she's been doing, and I'm growing more and more tired of it._

_She's judging me._

_She's judging me and my decisions. She's judging far more than any best friend should._

_Just because she has a boyfriend, doesn't give her the right to look down on mine. Just because she dates my brother, doesn't give her the right to dictate how I feel about who I date. But somehow, she does. Maybe she doesn't even know she's doing it. Maybe I'm only pretending she is so I can feel better about myself. So I can believe she cares, because I know she's right. I know she's right to judge. And maybe that's why she's my best friend. Maybe that's why she has absolutely every right to do the things she does._

_Maybe it's why I love her._

_"So I'm gonna take a wild stab in the dark here and guess you're not a big fan of Jack?"_

_I can't help myself, I need to know. I need to know her judgement, because it means everything to me._

_"You mean John?"_

_My eyes roll instinctively, speeding this along._

_"John, Jack, potatoes pototoes."_

_She laughs, and I can't help but chuckle with her, because this time we're both not dressing in anything but our bare selves. We're honest, and now, I want to see all of that honesty in everything she's not saying._

_"But, really, Ash, you know your opinion means everything to me, so..." I start, so sincerely, "...what do you think?" _

_"I think that..." She shrugs, passively, as if she really doesn't care either way. But I see through it, I see right through it, and I know she certainly does care. And she certainly doesn't like him. "...I think he's a nice guy."_

_"Ash..."_

_I give her a look that says everything I mean, and she knows she has to listen._

_"Ok..." One coffee cup set down on one coffee table "...I think he's a nice guy, I think he's a really sweet guy..." Finally she looks at me, "...but I think you can do better. I know you can. And I think..." she looks nervous, it's that weird nervous look I've seen a million times on her, a million times, and I still can't figure out what it means, I still can't figure out what she hides beneath it "...I think you're wasting your time on someone who doesn't put enough time into you. I think you deserve someone who can't be without you, because if they can, they're morons. Because they don't know what they're missing out on. And this Jack character...he doesn't know what he's missing out on."_

_"John." I say it so softly._

_"Hmm?"_

_She looks geniunely confused, and I can't help but let a shy giggle dribble out of my mouth. Feeling an overwhelming amount of joy flowing through me like a river from her words. Feeling a blazing blush that wants to break through my surface; the one I'm doing anything to extinguish before it reveals itself, as I reply, somewhat humbled._

_"You said Jack...and this particular moron's name is John."_

_"Oh, well..." She smiles a new smile I've never seen before, and it absolutely fills me up, "... Jack...John...different name, same moron."  
_

_She glimpses down to her hands, bashfully, and I swear I see a blush forming on her cheeks. And when her eyes come back to mine, the room stops. The needle rips itself from the record. No one else exists inside The Bean, except for the two of us. The two of us and her blatant and humble honesty. The honesty that is sinking further and further beneath our pink skin. _

_Her honesty that is sinking further and further inside my already sunken heart. _

_"I think you're..." Her voice, low and gravely, brings me back to her nervous face, her nervous body, taking over her usual strong and brave form, making her look more vulnerable than I've ever seen her "...you're wasting your time on someone who never holds your hand."_

_The air fills up with tension, so much tension, and the only way to release it, the only way I know how, is to laugh. I don't want to, I wish I could stop myself, but I laugh. _

_"Ashley, you don't strike me as the PDA type." _

_I do what I do best, I joke. I joke because something about this already feels too heavy, and I don't know if I can handle it. I don't know if I can hear it. Because I know I actually desperately need to hear it, because I desperately want to know if I actually can handle it._

_"I'm not."_

_"Ooookay..." I moronically, nervously, chuckle, trying to keep this all inside the safety of a funny place, "...explain that one to me."_

_My cover up hides the rapid beating heart inside my chest. The one that feels like it's about to burst through my chest. Cause she's not keeping anything under shits and giggles. She's throwing herself out there, she's throwing herself so far out there, I almost want to grab her and pull her back down. And, suddenly, she looks unsure. Suddenly, she doesn't need me to pull her anywhere, cause I've already pushed her away. Cause I've already made her back down all on her own._

_"Nevermind."_

_And it's heartbreaking._

_"No, no, tell me, please, I wanna know."_

_My tone is reassuring, and somewhat desperate, because I know what an idiot I've been. Because I've never wanted to know something more than I do now. Because she intrigues me more than anyone I've ever known. Because every word out of her mouth is the most fascinating thing I've ever heard. And I know, if she doesn't tell me whatever she was going to, I'd be missing out. I'd be missing out so much that I'd become just another moron._

_I'd be no better than the "boyfriend" I carry around, who's name I don't care enough about to even remember._

_She looks at me, contemplating, for one more beat, before she smiles. "I will tell you, Spence..." a breath of pure relief leaves my lips, before I suck it right back in, as she concludes, "...someday."_

_"Someday?" It practically squeaks from my body._

_"Someday." She firmly assures, and my face falls solemnly; So antsy to know what she was going to say and beyond mserable believing I've missed out on it, when I've already missed out on so much. But I let it go. I let it go because I have no other choice. Because I'd never pressure her. Because I'd never make her do something she didn't want to do._

_Because, someday, I know she will tell me. And I know I can wait. I know I can wait forever._

_So I start waiting._

"_Someday, huh..."_

_Waiting with a wiss ass grin, and a throwback._

"_You are one strange girl, Ash."_

_A knowing smile forms over her beautiful lips, ready to play along._

"_Better than being boring."_

"_Hey, stop stealing my lines! You may not be boring, but you're so not original!"_

"_Uh, I seem to recall you started the unroginality by stealing MY line first!"_

"_Oh whaaaaatever." _

_And as she obnoxiously, but absolutely adorably, pokes her tongue out at me, the air lifts. The air lifts so much, that I can't stop the smile spreading over my lips. Spreading and shining right towards her, because I realize I can't be without her. Because I realize I'm not a moron. And maybe I have missed out on somethings. Maybe I've missed out on things I shouldn't have. But it doesn't upset me. It doesn't bother me._

_  
Because when she looks at me in the way she's looking at me right now, I know, I know more than anything._

_I'm not missing a damn thing._

_-------------------_

Rain pitter patters on my windows, blanketing the warm silence in it's consistency, it's regularity, it's perfection.

And it is perfection. It's beyond perfection.

"I'm sorry I left last night."

Ashley's fingers pick at my white down comforter, pick at the sea of space between us. Lying face to face, on either end of my queen sized bed. So far from one another, but, really, never feeling closer.

"It's ok." I quietly assure her.

"No, it's not..." She takes a deep breath, still watching her fingers working away at nothing, "...It's just that when you...when you said all that stuff..." She sighs, like she feels defeated, like her words are just too much to bare, but she doesn't know how to get rid of them. I want to reach out and help her, but I know I can't. I know she needs to do this on her own.

"...When you finally said all those things, things I've been wanting you to say, finally being honest about everything going on inside you...it was like, I couldn't take it or something..." Her hands are now cradling the air between us, eyes a million miles away, as if they're running through every moment we've ever shared together "...it's like that phrase 'be careful what you wish for' you know? I got it, I got so much of what I've wished for and it was too much. It was everything, and I didn't know how to hold onto it, I didn't know how to wrap around it...because how can a person wrap themself around everything? So I ran, I ran from you and every step away from you kind of killed me, cause all I wanted..." She stops, so abruptly, taking in such a deep breath before she continues in the softest voice ever, "...when all I've ever wanted was to wrap myself around you, because _you _are everything."

Wow.

I gulp, literally gulp, as something lodges in my chest. In my throat. In my heart. Something so big, so important, so life changing. Because I'm pretty sure she just changed my life. Changed it on an already life changing night. And what do you say to that. What do you say in return to something that's divided your life?

Well if you're me, you stuttur hopelessly for a few minutes, before you breathe out. Before you breathe out only name you've ever wanted to.

"Ash..."

"It's ok."

She quietly, but firmly, assures me. And all I can do is smile. All I can do is shuffle closer on the bed without realizing it; because her pull is magnetic, and I could never fight.

Because I'd never even want to.

"Yeah..." I quickly glance down at her lips, eyes with a mind of their own, "...it is."

We're now wrapped up in everything together; this moment, these words, the rain outside, falling down on the windows, painting everything clearer. Everything makes sense right now, everything that I know will not make sense in the morning, everything that will surely blow up in our faces, is not the same everything we're sharing now.

This everythign is relief. This everything is breathing in and out. This everything is our ends of the bed, and small space between us.

This everything is the hand she just stole from me, cradling it as if it were a new born between her delicate fingers.

"I absolutely love hands..." She twirls mine between hers, examining it, almost like she's engraving each line inside her memory "...did you know that?"

Something ignites in my own mind; a memory sparking brighter and brighter.

"_...I think you're wasting your time on someone never holds your hand._"

And suddenly I've never listened more closely. I've never wanted to hear the words that are about to leave her gorgeous lips more. Because I have waited, and someday is finally here.

"No, I didn't." It's sweet and patient, never rushing her. Never rushing anyting on a life changing night that's given us all the time in the world.

"Yup." Her eyes shuffle between my hands and my eyes, not showing any sings of recalling the "someday" memory, "...I'm not big, I don't know, I'm not big on anything really PDA...no surprise there, I know..." I chuckle lightly, because It really isn't any surprise, "...but, and this is pretty embarrassing, so I trust you won't call up page six first thing in the morning, right? I mean, I know you wouldn't cause I trust you big time little girl."

She smiles adorably, tapping my nose, and I can't stop from smiling, giddy with excitement like the biggest geek in the room.

"When I was little, really little, I judged my boyfriends on the ones I'd hold hands with. Anthony Rizzi in fifth grade for example...oh my god, biggest hands EVER. Like clamy and always sweaty and just ew. Like I could never date him, because I'd never hold hands with him. I'd never grab his hand at Salernos, the pizza place down the street, because who wants to eat with a furnace in their hand. And then there was Lee Hardy in seventh grade...my god, he had the longest, thinnest fingers...and just GAH, they were so creepy."

She visibly shudders and I bite my lip to hold back the laughter.

"Creepy fingers, Ash?" Voice questioning, eyes skeptical "Seriously, fingers can be creepy?"

"Uh...yeah..." She looks off into the distance, like she always does when she can't believe I'm not picking up on what she's putting down "...haven't you seen Lord of the Rings. My preeeecious?"

"Oh God. Stop. You know I have and you know how much that creeps me out."

She chuckles wildly to herself, knowing how much it does creep me out, and knowing how well she's done. Through her little giggling fit, she's managed to roll closer to me on the bed. And I feel.

Oh how I feel it.

The room becomes so silent again, and I remember the memory and the story and I still don't' see the bridge. SO I bring it back up, so hopefully she can keep building it for me to eventually see.

"So whose did you hold?"

My hand still grasped between hers, she smiles into my eyes, while her eyes smile into my mouth. Her eyes don't even move when I catch them staring straight between my lips.

"Hmmm?"

I can't help but laugh.

"Hands. You've given examples of whose you didn't want to hold, so now tell me about the ones you wanted to. I want to know what Ashley Davies qualifies as the perfect hand to hold."

IT's strange, my tone was completely humorous, my voice was soaked in playfullness. But suddenly, nothing is playful about the mood. Nothing is playful about the way brown bores into blue, and suddenly our linked hands break the stare. Our linked hands are held between our bodies, between our faces.

"Well that's the thing, I've been searching for it for a long time, I've been looking for that one hand that I'd want to hold no matter what. For that one hand that would make me forget about PDA, about people watching, about showing affection outside of a sacred place. Because I've always known that that hand is out there, always. I've always known that there's a person out there who's hand I'd never hesitate in grabbing, because I couldn't not hold them. Because I'd have to be connected to them always."

Her lips turn up into a heartwarming smile, and it burns straight through my chest. It burns through everything I am, straight into my heart.

"Because that person is someone I can't be without."

I can hear the memory replaying in my mind, I can hear her words replaying over and over. Setting my insides on fire.

"So...have you...have you found it?" I whisper in a voice so husky, I didn't even know I had one of it's kind inside me.

She holds our hands impossibly tighter together, placing them right against her chest.

"Yeah..." her voice sounds slightly choked with complete emotion, relief written all over her face "...I think I have."


	9. Only Brave Enough

"_Wow...she's wasted, huh?"_

"_Yeah..." Mumbling and a million miles away, I don't even bother looking at him; eyes permanently glued to her body draped over the bar, draped over Glen, "...yeah, she is."_

_I shake my head. I shake my sight of her; trying so hard to not do the one thing I always do. Needing to stop my second nature, because why torture myself? Why watch her doing everything with my brother, that I wish she'd do with me._

_But, before I know it, I'm right back there. I'm right back there watching. I just keep on watching. Slowly killing myself in the process._

_Things have been rocky recently. So rocky. It started gradually; less Bean conversations. Less late night phone calls. Less everything that used to be me and her. That used to be PB & J. And then once I started dating Timmy, once it became apparent that I was gonna keep him around. Things just dropped completely. She dropped completely._

_She was distant. So distant._

_Distant and all over Glen. _

_Yeah, the past couple of months have basically been my worst nightmare. And tonight I wish I'd wake up from it already because I don't know how much more I can take. I don't know how much more I can take of her arms wrapped around his neck. Of her eyes pretending to look at him. Pretending to look at him the way she always used to look at me. _

_I know she pretends, because somehow she still manages to always have her eyes on me. She somehow always manages to shoot her eyes through mine every time Timmy holds my hand. Every time Timmy whispers in my ear. Every time Timmy merely shows up._

_She hates him. She absolutely hates him. And it baffles me. It baffles me, cause if there's anyone who should be hated in my relationship, it's me. It's me and the worst part? I don't even care._

_I've been dating Timmy for four months, and I've known he's not the one for me for four months. I knew it as soon as I got into it; I wasn't going anywhere with this guy. But, I still took him along for the ride; pretending we were going everywhere together. Letting him believe we were heading towards that white picket fence "future"; solid hand in shaky hand. _

"_Man, your brother's got his hands full."_

_My neck practically snaps as I look into his insulting eyes; throwing defensive daggers through them with mine._

"_What's that supposed to mean?"_

_She might be a stranger these days; for all I know she might hate me these days; I might feel myself die a little more every time I look at her, but she's still my world. She's still my everything. She's still my Jelly. And I have no problem, no problem what-so-ever, rushing to her defense. I have no problem shoving someone in their place if they come remotely close to dissing her._

_I have no problem putting her ahead of my boyfriend. The one I sleep with every night; never feeling a damn thing. The one I whisper "I love you" to every morning; Never meaning a word of it._

"_Uh, just that he's gonna have a mess of a drunk to take care of for the rest of the night." He looks at me as if I'm the stupidest person in the room, and I probably am, for so many reasons that he doesn't even understand, or maybe he does, and that in itself makes him a world smarter than me, "...Jesus Spence, what do you care anyway? It's not like you two are that great of friends anyway."_

_I think my insides just flooded with all the tears I won't cry. The tears that have been going unshed for far too long now._

_Timmy doesn't know the truth. He doesn't know that we weren't just friends before he came into my little world. No, we were so much more than friends. We were a Peanut Butter and a Jelly._

"_Sorry..." I breathe it from my burdened lips, not meaning it in the slightest, feeling a steady, slow ache burning through me; watching my Jelly, knowing it's pointless to pretend I'm not._

"_It's ok, baby, I know you're just grumpy cause I've been gone all week."_

_Oh not the "baby". Not the most cringe worthy pet name in the world. And now the ache only intensifies, the ache's calling the U-Haul ready to permanently move in, and I know I have to let this guy go soon. I have to for my sake._

_But really, I have to for his._

"_Yeah..." I suck down my beer "...that must be it."_

_He goes in for a heavy kiss; I guess he figures I'm drunk and miserable and he's what I'm missing. I guess he thinks this is what I want and need because it's coming from him. Because he's what I want and need. But you all know the truth, you know it so much more than even I know it._

_And if he'd only open his eyes, if he'd only look at me while he rams his tongue down my throat, he'd see it too. He'd see me staring at her; staring at her staring straight back at me, Glen's arm loosely wrapped around her waist, while he talks to some blonde bombshell beside him._

_As if she weren't even there._

_I wish I could say that it feels good, seeing her miserable with my brother, seeing her so upset after dealing with how upset she's made me. But I could never ever say it feels good to see her upset. I could never ever like seeing her miserable._

_Because she's suffering, and we all know that means I am too._

"_I'm gonna head to the head..." Timmy laughs moronically at his own moronic joke, wetly kissing my temple as he slides away from me, "...you want anything while I'm up...'nother beer?"_

_I know why he's asking; I know he's thinking if he gets me drunky it'll get him lucky. Well, that ain't happening. Not tonight, and something tells me, not ever again._

"_All set."_

_I don't even watch him as he waits for me to thank him, or look at him, or treat him like my boyfriend. But I don't. I merely wait for him to leave as I watch Ashley head off to the bathroom on her own; contemplating following her there._

_But I don't._

"_Baby sis."_

_Oh great, my second favorite person in the bar just decided to join my little pity party of oen._

"_What do you want?" I ask more so to the bottle of beer between my lips, than him._

"_Wow, someone's in a bad mood."_

"_Wow, someone's awfully observant."_

"_Look, I don't have time for your attitude...I need you to do me a favor."_

"_You're kidding me, right?"_

_I finally turn towards him, incredulousness painted everywhere in my features._

"_Come on, please."_

_He's begging like a little boy who wants a new car for Christmas; forgetting the little fact that he's barely nine._

"_No."_

"_Come on, won't you at least let me tell you what it is before you turn it down?"_

"_Nope."_

"_I need you to take Ashley home."_

_Before I can stop myself, before I can stop second nature, I'm looking towards him again, voice full of concern, "Why? Is she ok?! I mean..." deep breath, words slowed down "...What's going on?" _

_But I'm still fumbling all over my words, pretending to not be concerned while I'm really dying of concern, and he knows it. He knows it all too well. _

"_No, no she's ok. She's just hammered and I can't take care of her. She's like five minutes from barfing all over the bar and I just can't handle that."_

_Fucking asshole._

"_You're a fucking asshole."_

"_No..." He begins as if it were completely reasonable "...I'm just trying to have a good Saturday night. And she's a buzzkill."_

_My eyes widen in such horror, you'd think he had just confessed to murdering someone._

"_You are un-fucking-believable, Glen. Seriously."_

"_So does that mean you'll do it?" He practically begs as I only slide out from the booth._

_I shout "No!" over my shoulder, and as I hear him whine like a petulant five year old, I know there's no way in hell I'm giving in and doing him any kind of favor._

_No way in hell. _

_Ashley and Glen's apartment [don't even get me started on that hot little topic is so dark, that we fumble our way through the living room._

_We being Ashley and me. _

_I guess I found a way in Hell._

"_Spence?"_

_I instinctively wrap my arm tighter around her waist, feeling as though I need to protect her merely for hearing her say my name. And as her arms hook themselves further around my neck, softly bumping our heads together, I smile. Because I don't mind that it kind of hurt. Because I secretly, and pathetically, savor any contact with her._

"_Yeah?"_

"_I..." She takes a deep breath, and when she exhales she somehow exhales all over me and through me, and I can't stop the shiver shooting down my spine. "...I..."_

"_You what, Ash?" It's soft and sincere with not a trace of annoyance, because that could never be the case; even though I know all questioning is pointless; she's so drunk she probably has no idea what she's even saying._

"_I..." her head shakes against my shoulder "...nevermind."_

_If this were two months ago, I'd press her for what she was really going to say. Always curious, always needing to know. But that was two months ago, it's been a lifetime since, and I don't feel comfortable asking. I don't think I have the right. Losing it the day I started 'loving' someone else. _

_Yes, I've lost the right to ask, but I haven't lost any right to wonder. And I'm wondering, I'm wondering so much as we stumble into [itheir[/i bedroom; suddenly tasting a very tinty taste in my mouth. Feeling like I might just vomit._

_I practically drop her onto the bed, trying so hard to lay her down, but finding it basically impossible with her body resembling the heaviest lead._

"_Where's Glen?" She mumbles incoherently and mindlessly into thick air, and my heart kind of drops._

_Ok, it's plummeting. It's plummeting so fast, and somehow, I fear it'll never find the ground._

"_He's still at O"Neill's" My tone's going for indifference, but it only sounds pained. So damn pained and nothing else._

"_Oh..." Her voice is unreadable, as I turn on the bed side light "...noooo, no light!" Her hands adorably cover her eyes. "Please Spence, turn it offfff."_

_For a swift moment, I feel what it used to be like. For one fleeting beautiful moment, as she grabs my hand, I remember what this used to be like. I remember us, who we used to be. Who were supposed to be. _

_And it sits me down. It puts me right on the edge of the bed, and I feel something flutter between my ribs as she immediately curls herself around me._

"_Jelly."_

_She breathes with eyes closed. She breathes my name against my burning thigh, and I think I might have just gone to heaven._

"_Peanut Butter." I whisper right back; through a soft spot smile._

_Like a light switch, her eyes shoot open and she's looking straight at me. She's looking so far inside me, as if she were reaching for me. Reaching for the friend I used to be._

_Suddenly she seems completely sober. And suddenly, everything doesn't just feel like it used to be. Everything IS how it used to be._

"_I've missed you."_

_My heart just broke with three words. Three words that I've been waiting to hear. Needing to hear for so long, that my voice cracks when I whisper back, "I've missed you too." _

_We sit inside the unbelievably comforting darkness and silence of her room, as I feel her grab my hand between both of hers. Holding it against her panting chest._

"_Where've you been, Spence? Why've you been so far away?" Her voice kind of slurs, but it's never sounded more clearly and concisely heartbroken._

"_I've been here..." My voice is so soft, and even in the shadows of her room, I still can't look towards her as I quietly continue "...I'm right here, Ash. I'm right here."_

_The sound of sniffling coats the silent air, and I can't stop my hand from placing itself on the bed; placing it behind her back, straddling her body with my arm and torso._

_Wishing I were brave enough to touch her._

"_Good..." And she keeps wrapping herself further around me "...don't go away again, ok? Please don't leave me again, Spence."_

_Her voice is so small, so so small and childlike, that I feel my chest tighten. Not even thinking twice before I reply, "Never, Ash. Never again."_

_Sighing like I've just saved her life, she wraps her arms around my waist, practically resting her head in my lap. And while I'm hesitant at first, I finally find a sliver of courage and touch her; letting my hand softly sift through her hair, eliciting the quietest sighs from her. Eliciting the shallowest breaths against my denim covered thigh._

"_Sooo...where's..." I can actually hear her disdain in the name I know she's about to say next "...Timmmmmmy?" without missing a beat, without allowing me anytime to answer, she brings us right back to four months ago "...By the way have I mentioned how much I hate him and his stupid name?"_

_I laugh. I laugh so hard, because finally everything is right in the world, solely because everything is right right inside this room._

_Finally, everything is right._

"_No, but I kind of figured with the death stares you've been giving him..." She giggles at that, "...anyway, he's home and I wouldn't worry, I'm pretty much sure that's gonna be over in...oh I don't know..." I lift my arm, pretending to look at my non existent watch "...eight hours."_

"_Thank God." She moves her face further into my lap, and I think I'm dying inside, I think I'm dying the slowest most beautiful death "...he wasn't right for you. Definitely so wasn't right for you."_

_She's speaking into my leg, I can feel her lips moving against me and I wish she weren't so drunk, I wish she were sober so I knew she meant it. So I could be safe in the knowledge that she feels everything I feel. _

_But she's not. She's beyond wasted, and all I can hope is she'll remember this in the morning. And that should be so beyond depressing, it should be weighing me down, but I don't let it. Because finally we're together, like we used to be, and I'm selfishly savoring it._

_Suddenly, but slowly, she rolls away from me, leaving me frozen and alone on the edge of the bed. A frown tugs its way onto my lips, tugs so hard, before she pats the space beside her._

"_Come 'ere..." I've never heard her voice more gentle, "...lay with me."_

_And with the most trepidation I've ever had, I listen to her. With every ounce of bravery I can muster, I lay down right beside her. Petrified. Absolutely petrified. Because we've never been this close. Never. And I think the air knows it. I think the air sizzles with tension because of it. _

_Her breathing is so shallow, so drawn out that I almost believe she's fallen asleep. Almost._

"_I'm sorry I've been so mean to you."_

"_You haven't been mean." My voice is so small, as my eyes try to find her face in front of mine. Needing to see her face. And she laughs in a way that's not really funny. _

"_No. Spence. I have been. And I'm so sorry."_

_One blinking beat._

"_It's ok."_

_It becomes so silent again. So so silent, I can hear the wind outside. I can hear it brushing the trees up against her windows. Tiny little branches beating themselves against strong and sturdy glass._

"_I was afraid I was losing you."_

"_You weren't." I'm so quick to correct her. I'm so quick to make sure she knows it's the truth._

"_But I thought I was. And I don't know what I'd do if I lost you, Spence. I don't know what I'd ever do if you...I just can't lost you..." Even with her face hidden from mine, I can see her frown, and before I know it my hands wrapped around her waist, causing her to breathe in so harshly, but I keep it there anyway. _

"_You're not gonna lose me."_

"_Promise?" Asked with the voice of such a heartbroken girl, that I don't hesitate in answering. I don't hesitate in mending that broken heart with my heartfelt answer._

"_Promise."_

"_Pinky swear?"_

_In the black, I see her pinky extended between us, I see it cause I feel it there; suspended in the air. And unwrapping my hand from her warm waist, I effortlessly link my pinky with hers. Blindly knowing exactly where it is._

"_I swear."_

"_I swear too." _

_She whispers sweetly, feeling it more than hearing it, as if her body were a breath away. And it could be for all I know._

_Silence takes hold once again, but something's different about this silence. Something is slipping between, and something tells me it's something I don't wanna hear._

"_Spence?"_

"_Yeah?" It's asked raspy and weak, cause for some reason I can't must the strength to ask her. I can't find it in me to urge her to continue with something I know is going to kill me._

_She takes a deep and drunk, but more troubled than anything, breath, and then she does it.._

"_He wants to marry me."_

_She kills me. And feeling so defeated, so deflated, I foolishly ask "Who?"_

"_You know who."_

_I sigh._

"_Yeah. I know who."_

"_I don't wanna lose you." Normally it'd make me defensive and insecure. Normally it'd make me unbelievably sad, insinuating that she wants to marry him too. Suggesting that she wants him but she doesn't want to lose me in the process._

_But that's not what she's suggesting. Nothing about those words suggest what they normally would. No those words sound different now. Somehow they sound like they're saying something more than what she's actually saying._

_I just don't know what exactly they're suggesting. So I say the only thing I can._

_I reply truthfully._

"_You won't."_

"_I don't know what to do Spence." _

_It seems like she's trying something, whatever she's suggesting, from another angle. And I'm still not picking it up._

"_You should do whatever's right. Whatever you feel is right."_

"_What if what I feel is right...is wrong?"_

_She's losing me, let's not forget I've been drinking too. But I know she'd still lose me sober. So I don't say anything. Afraid to speak for some reason. Terrified to continue this, for a reason I'm sure I'd realize if I actually were brave enough to search for it._

_If I were only brave enough to open my eyes and see everything that's right before me._

"_What should I do Spence? Please just tell me. Tell me what to do. Tell me what..." I feel her breath, I feel it against my lips, and I'm so very aware of how close she is now. I'm so very aware of what she might be suggesting._

_And I'm paralyzed. I'm frozen. Licking my lips and so unsure as to why, I whisper right against her moist mouth that I know is so close to mine._

"_I can't tell you that, Ash. You..." My eyes flick down, wishing I could see her, wishing I could see her closer than she's ever been to me, and as close as I'll ever be to her "...you have to decide...what you want."_

"_I've never had to decide what I want, Spence."_

_Nothing fills the space between her words and mine. She didn't even have to blink an eye on that one, and now I'm scared shitless. I'm so scared, I'm moving away from her, just the slightest bit, but enough for her to notice. Enough for her to breathe deeply._

"_Just..." I can hear just how sad she is, but I don't know how to make it better "...just promise I'll never lose you like we've lost the past two months. Please let's not do that again? Please, Spencer. It almost broke me the first time, I don't think I'd survive a second time."_

_The complete loss in her voice jabs and jabs at my stomach, but I don't blink an eye in responding._

"_I promise, Ash. I promise you will never ever lose me."_

"_Ok..." She says it as if she's not sure she should trust it, but I guess we both decide to let it go, because she scoots closer to me on the bed, and this time, I don't move away._

_One hand curled over my hip, and I'm on fire._

"_Will you stay with me tonight?" She breathes across the pillow directly into my mouth "...I just get so lonely when..." She trails off, either thinking better of it, or maybe too embarrassed to admit it._

_But I know what she was going to say. I know she was going to admit that my prick of a brother leaves her alone at night far more than he should. And as I whisper "of course I will" right inside her ear, feeling her sigh in relief right against my throat, I wish I were brave enough to admit everything to her. _

_I wish I were brave enough to tell her I've never had to decide what I want either. _

_I wish I were brave enough to tell her that she shouldn't marry my brother. _

_Then again, if I were at all brave in the first place, I wouldn't have to do either._

_Because she'd already be mine._


	10. Welcome Back Reality

The air is bitter, more bitter than it's been in awhile. Winter is well on its way. The time of year for heavy coats and wool scarves is upon us. But I'm not dressed in either and I'm nowhere close to needing them.

Taking a deep breath, I walk towards her front door. The air whipping around me, the chill trying its best to push through me; but it doesn't. Nope. There's not one bit of shiver running through any of my bones. There's not an ounce of coldness residing anywhere inside me.

No, I'm insulated in this mornings memory. I'm wrapped up in Ashleys sweetness.

And I've never been warmer.

----------

"_Spence..."_

_A voice so calm and sweet whispers right inside me, tantalizingly close; but it's not enough to pull me from a pillow so soft and plush._

"_Come on..." the voice urges, stronger, firmer, and I only roll deeper into the bed, pushing myself closer to her, but never noticing the hot touch; I'm far too sleepy to register anything surrounding this moment, "...come on, waaaake up Jellyface."_

_However tired I am, that gets me and I can't help but smirk into bright white cotton, mumbling "Jellyface?"_

"_Mmhmmm...like it?" Slowly things start coming back to me; last night. Hand holding. Ashley beside me. Ashley sleeping right next to me, mere inches away, and while it would normally terrify me, while it'd normally shoot me straight out of this bed. It doesn't. Nope, all I can do is immediately smile with eyes still firmly shut._

"_I do."_

"_Good, I do too." I hear her smile between her words, as she gently pokes me in the arm "...now listen to me and wake up!"_

_I really want to listen to her. I would love to spend more heartwarming coherent time with her. But the fact is, I'm not a morning person, never have been. And it takes a whole lot more to wake me up than what she's doing. A whole lot more._

_And then she gives me a whole lot more._

_My eyes are wide wide open now, finding her clasping one of my hands between hers, looking straight into my eyes with a sneaky, but warm, smile on her adorable face. "There you are..." breathes from her lips, and pushes past mine. It hits me so hard, so deep, as she lowers her mouth to my hand, lazily kissing across my fingers. One by one. Inch by inch, covered with her soft lips._

_And I've never been more awake in my life._

_As if we're only just meeting [and after last night, we kind of are, she shyly whispers "hey" and as hard as I try to say "hey" back, I can't. I can't find my voice; it's been swallowed up within my deep breaths._

_Caught in a scorching and shivering stare, she keeps dragging her lips across my warm skin, one of my own fingers instinctively grazing softly over her hand. She rolls onto her back, and away from me, holding my open palm between her fingers. Slowly, oh so slowly, she traces over my life lines and love lines, with the tip of her pointer; no doubt touching every line I hold so far inside me at the same time. And she continues moving, completely torturing me. Up and down the insides of every finger, back and for between every knuckle. All the while her eyes are on mine. All the while her eyes are all over me._

_She's never been this bold before. And I've never let her be this bold before._

_Moving at a tediously slow pace, she pulls her face towards my palm, leaving the most delicate and wet kiss in the middle of it. Keeping her mouth right there, hovering, leaning into me, breathing against my damp skin, as if she were breathing me in. And in a way, she kind of is._

_Taking her time, she finally pulls away, loosely lacing our fingers, holding them between us. Eyes crawling back to mine, as the sweetest whisper ever escapes her warm body, "Mmm...love these."_

"_Yeah?" Shyly asked from my nervous lips, she smiles back at me._

"_Yeah."_

_We get caught up in everything surrounding us, everything falling down on us. Somehow, it's still the same everything from last night. Somehow, it's still relief and it's still beyond amazing. Reality isn't anywhere near this everything. Not yet. And we're savoring it. We're so savoring it._

"_So..."_

_Trailing off, I don't know where I'm going with it. Simply saying anything to keep this comfortable silence. Saying anything to keep her beside me, like this, for as long as I can._

_She forms a wise smile and in the goofiest voice ever, she dramatically exclaims "Buuuuuutttoooons."_

"_Hey!" Immediately rolling my lazy body closer to hers, I punch her arm with genuine force, "...STOP butchering my lines!"_

_She's laughing so hard, curling away from me and my defensive fist, dribbling between her giggles "Hate to break it to you Spence, but that line was already butchered to begin with."_

_Gasping, in serious offense, I pull away from her, crossing my arms like a bratty child. "Whatever."_

"_Aww..." She's moving closer to me, practically molding her body to the side of mine, "...you know I adore every one of your lines."_

_I'm still not budging. Not really that upset anymore, but wanting to see how far I can push her. Wanting to see how far she'll actually go._

"_Jelly, come on..." her hands tug at mine, as if she could make me happy again if she could only uncross my arms "...don't be mad."_

_Now I'm just playing, teasing her for the fun of it. Teasing her cause she's so adorable. Teasing her to see just how much she cares._

"_Ok that's it..." before I know it, she's rolled over on top of me, legs pooled and tangled; chests panting against chests; her hands splay out on the bed beneath me, holding her face above mine; eyes dead set on my never-opened-wider eyes._

_And suddenly it's so very hard to breathe._

"_Forgive me." Ordered from upturned lips, she stares at me with so much intensity, with so much underlying her words, that all I can do is breathe "forgiven" from somewhere deep in my chest that's so tightly pressed to hers._

"_Good."_

_Her eyes softly trail over the features of my face, and I'm thrown completely off guard as I realize my hands are cradling her hips. My hands are softly holding her close to me, where I've always wanted her. And I wonder...I wonder if I'll ever let her go._

"_This is nice."_

_Lowering her body slightly, she leans on an elbow to the side, letting her left hand rest on my panting chest._

"_Yeah..." my eyes flick over every inch of her, too scared or too overwhelmed or maybe both, to stay in one place, "...yeah it is."_

_But I mean it. No matter how beautifully unnerved I am, nothing has ever been better than where I am right now. Nothing has ever been "nicer" than laying, squished beneath her._

"_Wanna do it again tonight?"_

_Somehow, she's lost my attention within seconds. Somehow her lips stole it along with my eyes, holding both between them, threatening to never let them go, and all I can do is mutter "it?"_

_She notices without a doubt where my mind is, where my eyes are, and she giggles because of it. "This. You know, me and you...just hanging out..." I finally glimpse back to her gorgeous eyes, falling into them as she sweetly continues "...wanna come over tonight and do it again?"_

"_Why do we have to stop it in the first place?"_

_It's so bold and forward, I don't even realize it's me who's asked. But I know I mean it. I know I don't want this to ever stop. Me and her. Just hanging out. I want it to last forever._

"_Well I'd love to..." Once again she chuckles, either completely surprised or knowing full well, how out of it I am. How much of an effect she's having over me, she pokes my chest with every word. "...but someone has to go to work around here, and it ain't me."_

_Suddenly I clasp a hand over my eyes, "Oh God...It's Monday, isn't it?"_

"_Well, last time I checked." Said with such amusement from her beautiful smirk, her hand gently pulls mine from my eyes, naturally threading our fingers together [I'm realizing just how much she loves hands, and I'm realizing just how much I love her because of it "...Hey now don't hide those gorgeous baby blues."_

_I develop my own smirk "Gorgeous, huh?"_

_A light blush forms on her cheeks, and it makes something ignite low in my belly; the same one molded against hers. The realization of how close we actually are in this moment. The realization that anything could happen right now has just dawned on me._

_And it looks like it's dawning on her too. It looks like everything has caught up with us, the possibility of everything we've ignored for so long. She knows it, she feels it, and as she tentatively untangles her hand from mine, sliding it up to my neck, I feel it too. I feel it so strongly as she brushes a few strands of hair behind my ear, stroking my cheek; shakily._

"_I've..." Her eyes glimpse down like she's further displaying the meaning behind her words "...I've wanted to do this for so long."_

_The air swallows itself between us, everything is now so heavy. We're not joking. We're not laughing. We're dead serious in a serious moment. A moment that could change everything._

_And we're both not sure we're ready for it. I can tell by the way she's shaking above me. Matching my own quivers; tremor for tremor._

_But it doesn't stop me from sweetly, honestly, exhaling "Me too."_

_She looks down at me, I look up at her; suddenly there's nothing between us. Absolutely nothing between us, and I know where this is heading. I'm about to kiss Ashley. We are about to kiss._

_Holy fuck we are going to kiss, she's pulling my face, hand clasped around my rosy cheek, her lips drawing closer to mine as if they were magnetic. My heart is beating, wildly, breaking everything inside me. I'm sure she feels it against her breasts between mine. Her breaths paint a new world against my moist lips; a new world for me to discover. A world I'm so close to drowning in._

_And then she's gone. A loud beeping slicing right through our life changing moment._

"_Jesus, Spence..." she rolls back from me, as I grab my cell phone off the bedside table "...that scared the crap out of me. Why the hell do you have your alarm so loud?"_

"_Uhhh...you know how I sleep..." turning off the blasphemous phone, I feel five tons of tension disintegrate inside me "...you know it takes a sledgehammer to wake me up."_

_That gets her laughing against me, smiling internally at the way it vibrates against my bones "Yeah...yeah it does...however, I think I've learned other, softer methods of doing the same."_

_And the tension is back tenfold, burrowing itself a permanent place in my stomach. Especially with those dark eyes boring through mine. Especially with everything weighing down on me once again._

_But it's the good everything. It's the everything that is just me and her. So really, it's the lightest weight I've ever felt._

"_Well I guess I better be going."_

_Wait, what?_

"_Whyyy?" I pout in complete honesty._

"_Because, YOU..." one quick tap to my nose "...my dear, have to go to work."_

"_Fine, mom."_

"_Watch it."_

_She holds a stern finger my way, and I lose myself in laughter. Laughter over how right things feel. How warm things are. And maybe she feels it too, cause she joins in with her own light hearted chuckles._

_Lifting my heart so unbelievably high._

"_Well..." Her body pushes up from the bed, leaving the space beside me far too empty and far too cold, "...I hope you have an excellent day, Spence."_

"_Yeah..." I remain splayed out on the bed, smiling softly at her "...I have a feeling I will."_

_That gets me a nose wrinkling smile. That carves me a place in her heart. And it gives me the world, as she stands by my door "...You know, I have that same feeling."_

_We stand there, like two ten year olds who just met their crush. We stand there like the biggest blindest fools in love. So oblivious to the train wreck barreling its way towards us. So unaware of the consequences falling all around us. Too wrapped up in everything, too wrapped up in the fools before us, to even care. To even think about anything else._

"_So I'll see you later, yeah?"_

_She's shy, so adorably shy, as if I might change my mind. And I think I'm falling in love with her all over again; falling in love in a different way. The right way._

"_Yeah. You will."_

_One last lingering heart stopping loving "everything" look, and she quietly leaves my room. She quietly leaves me. Leaving me splayed out on a bed that's never felt fuller. Warmer._

_But really, she's left me inside a body that's never felt fuller. That's never been warmer._

_And I smile wider than I ever have before._

----------

Anxiously, I wait for her front door to open. Impatiently, I debate knocking again. Just needing to see her, just needing to feel everything again. It's been mere hours since I last saw her, but I haven't left that high. I haven't dropped from it one bit.

I can hear footsteps hurriedly walking to the door, and it makes me even more excited. It makes me wonder if she feels just how I feel. Maybe she needs to see me just as much.

After an eternity, the door opens, revealing her gorgeous face. And I'm so wrapped up in that gorgeous face, I don't see the worry engraved beneath it. I don't see the concern and stress.

"Spence..."

"Hey.." I breathe, stepping closer to her, cutting her off, pulling her into a hug. For once I feel so right. So natural. So brave.

Yes, I feel brave. And it makes me feel so strong. It makes me feel so proud.

"Hey...listen..." I pull away, and she's speaking so fast, so hurried, that it still doesn't strike anything in me "...I've been trying to call you, look, I'm so so so so sorry but..."

"Baby sis!"

Oh. God.

Glen shows up from the shadows of the front hall, sloppily and mindlessly kissing Ashley on the forehead before he slaps her ass.

"Thanks for taking care of the ole ball and chain this weekend."

I want to die. I want to vomit. I actually think I might do both. And as I wearily, wetly, look into Ashley eyes, she looks the exact same way. She mouths a strong, heartbreaking, sorry, as Glen disappears back into the kitchen, exclaiming over his shoulder "...ladies, we eating or what, I'm fucking starving!"

And just like that, everything disappeared. Everything has been lost. I can't even look her in the eyes anymore. Because I can't find her. Because I've lost her.

Because Glen's finally home.

And so is reality.


	11. Throwing and Pulling

How we [Glen, Ashley, Me, and Aiden all ended up at O'Neill's on the night we [Ashley and Me were supposed to just hang out. On the night I've been waiting forever on...well we [You, Me, Ashley, Glen, Aiden will never know. Just one of those things, like Murphy's Law, or an alarm that goes off right before you kiss the most gorgeous girl in the world, ending a life changing moment before it even begins.

AKA - the little things that happen daily inside my silly life.

"Ok..." Aiden slides from his chair into the empty one beside me, keeping his attentive eyes on Ashley and Glen grabbing drinks at the bar "...what's going on?"

My sights are set on the same place, the same nauseating bar scene unfolding before our eyes, as I mindlessly ask into thin air, "What?"

"All the tension..." He says it like it's so obvious as I hear him gulp down a chug of Bud "...what's up with that? It's getting kind of awkward."

Now he's got my nervous attension, eyes searching his face for a hint of what he's getting at, all the while trying to keep those nerves far from my voice. Oh yeah, I'm reaching towards the top shelf for nonchalant, twirling my glass between my slippery fingers, breezing out "I don't know what you're talking about." But I definitlely couldn't reach that particular shelf, no matter how far I stretched on my tiptoes. I'm failing. I'm failing miserably. I can't keep my unnerved eyes off them. Watching Glen's hand sitting low on her back; Possessively. Unjustly.

She isn't his. She doesn't belong to him.

But as he grabs her hand and she doesn't do anything but keep it inside his, I realize it. I realize she is his. She does belong to him, like I've always believed. And now I wonder how much longer I'll be able to keep my eyes from crying.

"Riiight." Aiden whispers in my ear, before he leans away, before he backs away from this conversation "...ok, yeah. No. Nevermind. I don't even want to know what you two are fighting about now."

The perfect married couple start walking back towards our table, and it makes me even more anxious. It makes me practically hover over Aiden, feeling more than a little bit stressed as I ask in a rushed and harsh whisper, "Ok when have you ever cared about Glen and I fighting?"

"Believe me, I haven't. I wasn't talking about you and Glen. I was talking about you and his other half."

Excuuuse me, other half? She is so not Glen's other...wait a minute...What is Aiden talking about? Aiden is NOT that perceptive. There's no way he knows...He doesn't...He couldn't...I mean...does he...does he know? No. No, this is Aiden. The man who only makes sense after he's fifteen deep.

The man who still believes the phrase is Doggie Dog World.

"Whatever."

I manage to drip one word in venom and he only laughs; laughs in a way that is far too knowning for my liking. Sliding back into his chair, he leaves Ashley's chair empty for her to fill again. Which she does, stiffly and uncomfortably. Once more fitting her tense body beside my even more tense body [thanks to Aiden.

But I try and shug it off. As I've been doing this whole night, I try to remain cool. Remain calm.

Remain funny.

"So, how was the bar? Positively thrilling?"

Laughing with my sarcastic and lame question, my attempts at funny fall unbelievably short. My laughter is depressing. But dpressing to only me because only I know how much I'd rather cry. How much I'd rather bawl up like a baby, and weep my poor little heart out. But I'm trying. I'm trying so hard. Ever since this night fell apart on me, I've tried reaching out for her. I've tried not running away. But it's been beyond difficult.

It's been kind of heartwrenching.

"Yup." She cooly sips her drink, keeping her eyes anywhere I'm not. Making my efforts all the more painful. Because Ashley is not trying. Ashley is closed up and running.

And yeah, it's kind of tearing me apart.

"Yeah..." Glen and Aiden start rambling about something sports related, and I just keep on trying "...so how's your drink?"

She holds her glass between her hands, angling it back a bit, as if she were really checking it out. "Pretty good. Can't really go wrong with a Jack and diet."

I sigh. She's not giving me anything, merely focusing her attention on some TV holding the subject of Glen and Aiden's conversation inside it. But really, I know her attention isn't there. I know her attention is on anything that's not me.

I can't help it, I sigh again. I sight with my life. And I feel it; her sad, full of pity eyes falling on my slumped over shoulders. She keeps doing that. Looking at me sympathetically. As if I were in this pain all on my own. As if this night was no big loss for her.

Ok, no. I have to stop believing that. I have to stop believing she's not as heartbroken as I am. I have to believe that neither of us are going to run.

Because this morning stil happened. Because last night still happened. And I know that was the truth.

"I heard you were all sorts of banged up on Saturday, Aid." Glen laughs over his bottle, and I fight every urge to roll my eyes.

Actually, no I don't fight anything, I roll my eyes so hard I just might have lost them and I hear a light chuckle beside me. One that could only be hers, one that could only mean she saw my disgust with my brother; and it lifts my heart so much. So much more than it should, and I should feel kind of pathetic about it, but it makes me happy more. It makes me too happy to even care.

"Glen, you know it was my birthday, right? Being all sorts of banged up kind of goes along with the territory."

"Yeah, yeah. So did you get any?"

"Glen..." Ashley cuts in, not amused, speaking everyone's mind "...so inappropriate."

"What?" Glen asks, oblivious, and things become heavy. So heavy. Between me looking at Glen, looking at Ashley, looking at me, this circle of drama begins closing in. The obvious tension Aiden mentioned before is sinking in. Sinking in so deep that even Glen is catching onto it.

And then Aiden laughs.

"Uh Glen, you know it was my birthday, right? Getting laid kind of goes along with the territory."

For once, Aiden's perviness makes me so proud to have him as my best friend. Makes me so unbelievably thankful, because we're all floating now [well some of us This circle is no longer decreasing, because of Aiden. Because he might just know more than I want him to.

But that's ok. For now, that is fine by me.

The bar buzzes around us. Glasses clanking over classic rock. Pool tables snapping and cracking. Our table's comfortable silence, Glen and Aiden's pointless conversation filling the spaces between.

But then there's Ashley's unreadable silence. There's her inexplicable introversion. And as I catch Glen's no good eyes wandering to places they shouldn't; to legs that don't belong to him. I can't help myself. I need to push this. I need to find out what's going on. I need to make a move.

Tentatively reaching beneath the table, I slide my hand over, finding hers clasped together in her lap.

I hear her gasp lightly at the contact, I can feel her body stiffen even more. But she doesn't move away, and neither will I. Slowly, I unravel her knots. Slowly, I untie her tight fingers; letting my surprisingly sturdy ones thread with hers.

In this moment, I'm giving her my everything. Right now, I'm putting myself out there, to prove to her. To show her, with everything I've got.

I'm not running away.

I'm right here with her.

I'm not breaking my promise.

I'm not gonna do that.

And then she throws it all away. She takes my everything and practically shoves it back in my face. Quickly sliding her hand from mine, coughing in a way that crumbles my heart. She returns my everything without a receipt. She returns everything I don't' want back, but I have no choice; I have to take it. I have to swallow it. Hard.

And now...now I have to run.

I cough without even realizing it, looking out to my brother and best friend [keeping my eyes nowhere near her as I try and find my voice "Hey guys, I think I gotta be going, big day tomorrow..."

Her eyes shoot through me, right through me, as I slide out from my chair. But before I can leave, something stops me. Something in the form of her hand grabbing onto mine beneath the table. Holding mine like I held hers mere minutes ago.

"Hey no, Spence, don't go."

I can't believe this. I can not fucking believe this. She ignores me all night, she practically throws me away, and now she's trying to pull me back.

Well it's not gonna happen.

Looking at no one, I focus on my purse, pretending to gather things inside it on my lap "Yeah...I can't stay, I have to get up really early...so no, I gotta go."

Without giving her a second to grab my hand again, without giving her any more opportunities to try and convince me to stay [cause I know I'll only listen if she gets one more chance I push out from my chair, somewhat wobbly, praying I don't knock over anything in the middle of my fast get away.

Praying I don't make a scene as I break a promise,

"...so yeah, I should be going." I'm still mumbling, hoping words can cover my pain. Hoping my voice can reassure any worry.

And Ashley's eyes keep darting inside me. Keep pushing, convincing, pulling me towards her. But I don't go there. I don't look at her. I can't. I just can't. But that doesn't mean I'm escaping how those unreadable eyes feel. They are scorching with something that frightens me. Frightens me so much.

And maybe that's why I won't look at her.

"Figures I'm the only Carlin who can hang."

"Shut the fuck up Glen!"

Even I jump back from my outburst. Even I feel a little disturbed at where it came from. But really, I'm not all that surprised. Really, I know I can't keep it in anymore. I just can't. I can't sit back anymore and watch him have everything I want. Everything I need. Everything that fits with me.

Everything he could give two shits about.

"Jesus, someone's testy tonight. Better that you leave."

"Seriously, shut the fuck up, Glen!"

This time it's Ashley coming to my rescue. And while she actually does shut him up, it doesn't make me feel better. It only make me feel worse. It only makes my chin tremble. A clear giveaway that I'm seconds away from waterfalling all over this bar.

And I hope to God no one notices. But I know that's pointless. I know that prayer is empty, because there are two people at this close table who'll certainly notice. Two people who know me so well; they read me like a billboard.

Ashley, who still hasn't lifted her gaze off me.

"I think I'm gonna head home too, I'll walk you out, Spence."

And Aiden. Aiden who is already by my side, protective hand wrapped around my waist; a hand that has a line of fire burning through it, and as I finally look towards Ashley, as I finally test the waters; I realize it's her eyes shooting that inferno. It's her eyes that spell betrayal.

And I could care less. Because I can't care about her right now, I have to care about me. I have to care about getting the hell out of this bar.

Hell maybe even this town.

For now, all I can do is walk. All I can do is keep close to Aiden, leaning under the arm he has safely wrapped around my shoulder. Suddenly he looks so much like my knight in shining armor, and I can't help but whisper a shaky "thank you" into his ear.

And as he sincerely smiles my way, asking a quiet "for what?" that's not really a question at all, I remember. I remember clearly and vividly.

I remember just why I keep him around.


	12. Big Regret, Bigger Advances

_Downstairs is full of mumbles and shuffles, dizzying patterns of noise and movement. Because they're all down there._

_Celebrating._

_A grunting laugh full of sorrow blows past my dry lips._

_Celebrating. Yeah, that's what I've been doing too. Right there with them; toasting my endless glass of champagne into oblivion. Miserably cheering the announcement of Glen and Ashley's engagement with a lopsided drunk smile on my face. Dying inside just a little more with every dreadfully slow passing second. Watching my mother so proud. My father so loving. Clay and Chelsea so understanding. Glen so...happy._

_Feeling myself fade away. Feeling myself disappear into the background; blending into the pasty walls like a bad painting. A painting dried and crumbling._

_And I couldn't breathe._

_And I couldn't hear._

_And I couldn't see._

_I couldn't anything anymore._

_So I put myself to bed. Well to be fair, mom put me to bed. I guess you could say I was heading towards an embarrassing place. I guess you could say I was about to regret that endless glass of bubbly._

_I guess you could say my mother saved me from producing a lot more regret for the morning._

_Both she and my dad have checked up on me. I think. Things are kind of blurry and smudgy at this point. Which is pretty pathetic, cause I don't even think it's tomorrow yet. No, I think I might have been put up here just after sunset._

_However, living through a night like this would send anyone to bed. Anyone would want to sleep right through their living nightmare._

_I pull my anchor of an arm over my forehead, still finding the act of breathing beyond troubling. Even though I'm miles away from their unaffectionate display of nonexistent love, I can't get the image of them forever together out of my bruised and battered heart._

"_Spence?"_

_The door creaks open, shining the brightest light of my life into my heavy eyes._

"_I'm fine, Mom, you can go back downstairs." Pours from my pouty lips, and I swear I hear nervous laughter._

"_No. I'm, uh, not your mom."_

"_Well whoever you are, you can leave too, I'm...I'm fine."_

_But I know who it is, I know full well who it is. And I mean it, she can leave too._

_But really, I don't mean it at all. Not one bit. She could stay forever, and I'd never make a move to make her move. No, I'd stay absolutely still praying she'd never leave me._

"_I thought you might want some cake?"_

_She's tentative, she's so nervous, because I think she knows there's an overflowing river of a puddle before her._

"_Yeah...I think...I think I'll pass..." My words are slurring, my words can not paint the biting thoughts I have buried inside me "...I don't want any of your cake."_

"_You sure? Cause I hear it brings all the boys to the yard."_

_Oh how she tries, and oh how I'm not gonna let her get to me. Not that easily. No matter how much I want to let that dribbling laughter rumble outside of my chest. No matter how much l want to let it go. _

_And oh how much I want to let it all go._

_Oh how much I want to just be with her._

"_Wrong dessert, and no...I don't want anything that brings boys to the yard."_

_It might have sounded funny if it weren't so heartbreaking._

_She deeply sighs and slowly walks towards me with such heavy steps. Heavy steps from her saddened feet, or maybe they're only heavy steps made up in my saddened heart._

_But I keep my eyes closed anyway. I keep myself hidden from everything she's so easily offering._

"_Ok, you got me, the cake was my excuse to check on you."_

_I don't say anything. I don't want to. I actually don't want her here anymore. I feel too exposed. Fully dressed in tonights clothes, all I feel is naked. Too naked. Displaying things inside me that she can't see._

_So I roll away. Curling myself into a safe ball, pushing my back towards her now open and exposed body._

"_You should just go downstairs. I'm fine."_

_Whispered and choked, tears clutching my throat. The tears I'm swallowing. The tears flooding between my baited breaths; drowning everything inside me. Flooding so fast that I have to try extra hard to keep shutting her out. I have to keep pushing her away, so I can feel the safety in the familiarity of that situation. So I can feel strong for shutting her out when I feel so alone._

_When actually and honestly, I don't feel strong or safe or ok. When I've never felt those things. When I really feel so far from anything remotely good. When all I feel is awful. So awful. Because the bed just dipped. Because she's lying behind me, wrapping herself right around my crumpled and crinkled body._

_Because she'd never give up on me as easily as I've always given up on her._

_And the tears tip over with that thought. The tears silently stain themselves inside my hot cheeks. I sniffle loudly, wishing I could call these tears rolling over my chin and down my neck beer tears. But I can't. These are real, harsh, bitter and buried tears._

"_I love you Spencer."_

_And she hears them._

_And she feels them too._

"_I know."_

_I clumsily wipe my nose with my knuckles, like a little girl, only making the mess of my face messier._

"_Do you?"_

_It sounds like she may have tears inside her voice too, and like a knee jerk reaction, I have to make her better, I have to take them away as I whisper with every ounce of sincerity inside me, "Of course I know."_

"_No...not do you know..." She pushes further across the bed, further into me, and I have to squeeze my eyes tighter, wishing I could shut out everything she's giving me that I could have always had if I weren't so damn stupid._

"_...But do you..." Her mouth somehow crawls right over my ear and as if in slow motion, she whispers a shaky stream of clear insecurity right inside my breaking heart, "...do you love me too Spence?"_

_I don't even wait to answer with a voice smothered in strangulation._

"_So much, Ash..." a voice that keeps puttering out between my quivering lips "... just...so much."_

_She's crying now. I can hear it vibrating inside my every bone, I can feel it rumbling against my breaking back. And it only makes me cry more. I hate hearing her cry. I hate being the cause of it. _

_But what I hate most...I hate crying over something I once had control over, but don't now._

"_If only..." She mutters against my neck, hand wrapped so tightly around my waist, holding my hand inside hers against my heaving chest. "...if only you loved me in the same way I love you."_

_I think I've stopped breathing. I think she just floored me into sobriety. I think I just felt a bucket of something cold and bitter slam into me._

"_If only."_

_She whispers once more, in a voice that really isn't a whisper. I'm pretty sure she said it louder than anything I've ever heard. But I'm so frozen. I'm so paralyzed in this moment fogging over me. This moment where I already regret my endless glass of faux celebration._

_This moment clouding over could stop my tears. This blurring moment could lift my heart. Cause once again, I don't think she's giving up on me. I think she's wanting to give in. And I think she only needs me to let her._

"_Please Spence..."_

_She pleads in a voice I've never heard before. Because it's not her voice pleading. She breathes it, desperately, like it were her last breath. And she uses it to breathe nothing more than her desperation straight through the hair matted to my shivering damp neck._

"_Please say you love me that way."_

_And I can't breathe._

"_Please Spence..."_

_And I can't hear._

"_Please, just..."_

_And I can't speak._

"_...do something..."_

_And I can't move._

"_...please..."_

_And she begs and begs, exposing me more and more. Hand fully wrapped beneath my stomach, pulling my body so close, as if she feels like she might lose me if she don't hold me._

_And all I want to do is "something". All I want to do is say "something". I want to tell her how freaking much I love her. I want to have her in the way I've never had anyone. I want to give her what I've never given anyone._

_I want so bad and so much._

_But I still can't move. I still can't breathe. I still can't speak._

_And all I hear is that clock ticking. All I hear is her heart racing, right beside mine. Maybe even breaking with mine, pooling all our empty pieces together._

_Because I feel her moving away now. I hear her sighing, rolling back from my bare and frozen body. Leaving me to drown all by my drunk and lonely self in this over sized bed._

_Leaving me to fade away; sinking further and further into my thick duvet, drowning farther and farther away from her._

_And then she gave up; shutting the door so softly behind her._

_Leaving me in the stillness of my terrifying childhood bedroom._

_Leaving me to flail inside my haunting past._

_Leaving me to fall asleep with nothing but my regret from this very moment._

_The same regret wrapped around my body tighter than the clothes on my back._

_The same regret I'll never remember in the morning._

_All thanks to my endless glass of misery._

"Ok..." Madison leans over me, snagging the remote control from my grubby hands "...if I have to sit through one more rerun of Seinfeld I might actually kill myself..." she quickly glares my way "...well after I kill you first."

"Gee, thanks, I love you too." I mumble, grumpy, eyes glazed over watching the tv across the room. The light blinking rhythmically, painting the room in mellow blue. Neither one of us moving to turn on a light. Neither one of us making any moves on this dreadful Saturday night.

"Spencer, really, what's going on?"

I sigh. Deeply troubled. Giving it some concrete thought, for once, actually considering unloading all my burdens onto Madison. Knowing it'd do nothing more than release one percent of the weight that weighs me down, but at least it'd be something. At least I'd know I kind of tried.

"Ok, I know something's seriously wrong, you've been moping all week and it's really starting to worry me."

For a split second, I think I might give it all up.

"Don't worry Maddy."

For a split second I close it all up again.

"I'm fine, I promise. Just really tired and..." I hate being so closed off, I hate needing to build these walls, but most of all I hate her eyes seeing straight through them, making me realize it's pointless to completely lie, "...and I don't know what's bothering me..." I sigh "...I really don't."

Oh how I lie.

"But there is something?"

She's so gentle in her prodding. So understanding and accepting. So unbelievable as a best friend that I'd be a fool to not lean on her.

"Yeah, but I'm really not sure what it is...maybe my job."

But I am that fool. I've always been that fool.

I stare down at my fingers, picking at my not even there nails, and I know she's debating how much more she should push. Debating how far she wants to stretch me, afraid of how far I might go; knowing I might not snap back.

"Is it Ashley?"

Before I can stop myself, my neck swivels so fast her way "What?"

"I didn't mean it offensively, Spence, just..." She's reaching so far for my drifting body, desperate to reel me back in so she can pull everything out of me "...she hasn't called or been around since last Sunday night and that's really weird for you guys. I didn't know if something happened between you two..." she's quick, too quick, to correct herself "...I mean if you had a fight or something."

I look at her wearily. I look at her as if she's betrayed my trust just by knowing me too well. Just for knowing every single thing that's bothering me and only wanting to help.

"No. No we're perfect." I stand from the couch, not doing a very good job of convincing anyone of what I've just said "...I'm just gonna go lay down."

"Spence-"

"Maddy really please just leave it. I'm fine. Ashley's fine. We're fine..." Walking to my room, I shout "...Everyone's fine!"

Falling back against my shut dooer, I breathe out so much pain and trouble, I'm surprised I can acutally inhale it all back inside me again.

My heart just keeps on racing. My pants keep on panting. So loud. So jaded.

And seconds crawl by.

Minutes roll by and Madison hasn't knocked on my door yet. Madison hasn't come to apologize or fight me on it. Like she always does. No. Madison just slammed the front door. And I think I can actually hear her hurried steps down the hall of our building. Her angered steps away from me. Stomping across my weak little heart.

I'm such a fool.

My head falls back against the wood with a thump. Lulling with eyes closed. I don't know how much longer I can do this. How much more I can take. Ashley and I haven't seen each other since that night at O'Neill's [five days ago We haven't spoken since then either. And Madison was right, so right about so many things, but mostly, she was right when she said that's weird for us.

That's noticeably weird to even a stranger.

I just don't know what to do anymore. She threw me for a loop that night. She threw me like I've thrown her so many times, and while it should make me feel guilty for understanding what it's like to be in her shoes now. It doesn't. It only makes me more confused.

So damn confused.

Why would she pull away from me?

Why would she run?

Why would she still reach for me after pulling and running?

I sigh, defeated. Dejeceted. For once I don't just wonder if Ashley will come back; If Ashley will forgive me. No, for once, I wonder if I even want her to. This is just too much to bare. This is just too much for one person to take. There are just too many reasons for this to end. For us to end.

Ending before we even began.

Suddenly, I think I hear the front door open and close, softer than soft, and a breath of relief leaves me without even realizing it. Madison is back. And whether it's to yell or apologize or forgive, I don't care. I'll take all of it or none of it if it means I can have her again.

If it means I'm no longer alone.

There's the knock on my door, with tentative force, and I don't waste a second in turning around and answering it.

I don't waste a second in losing my breath.

"Ashley?" Barely squeaks out from my frozen lips, completely forgetting she has a key to my apartment; solely cause she's never used it before.

She doesn't look amused. No, she looks angry as hell, as she breezes by me, making sure to have no contact with my body what-so-ever.

Making sure I know she's here strictly on business.

"I just need my jacket...the one I...it's..." she fumbles in her lies as she fumbles through my room "...I left it here last week."

"Oh...I haven't seen it." I lie some more. I buy some more time. Cause I know exactly where her jacket is. Cause I want her to forgive me.

Cause I'll forgive her in a heartbeat.

If she'd only let me.

"Fuck..." blows past her burdened lips, throwing so much misguided emotion into her words, "...I can't lose that jacket."

"I'm sorry. I'll keep an eye out for it..." Hands covering her eyes, her paper thin disguise is rapidly crumbling, and I'm testing,"...so..." oh I'm testing those dark dark waters, "...how are you?"

Hands slide from her face like an avalanche. Displaying all her pain and sadness like the water beneath a frozen lake.

"How do you think I am?"

There's just a small thread of anger weaved into her hopeless words. And I kind of know how it feels.

"Why haven't you called?"

It's a stupid question, I'm fully aware of my stupidity in asking even as I asked. But I had to do it anyway. I had to because I'm dying inside. Because I need to know.

Because I am that fool.

"Why haven't you?"

She throws it right back, somewhat incredulously. And I know it's time to get this show on the road.

It's time to get the words out.

"Because you ignored me all night, Ashley..." I'm already shaking on this unstable terrain "...Because you held his hand instead of mine. Because you didn't want me. Because you ran away."

"Is that what you think?"

There's no anger this time, only hurt.

"What else should I think? What would you think?" I shake my head, eyes widening "What were you thinking? Please tell me. Tell me so I'm not so fucking confused anymore."

Her features soften, just the tiniest bit, and I know, I know more than I want to; she's choosing her words wisely.

"I was thinking..." One deep breath, and it kind of scares me. The way she sucks in the air as if she needs more strength. As if she needs to break me and she can't do it all on her own; drawing help from wherever she can get it. "...I was terrified, Spencer. I was fucking terrified."

"Of what?"

I dumbly ask for the obvious. I dumbly ask for her to explain why I was terrified too.

And she knows it.

"Of you, Spencer! I was petrified of you running away. Because that's what you always do. Once we take a step forward, you punt us nine steps back. And when Glen showed up, when he came home early..." She's spitting over her words, one coming faster than the next "...I saw your face. I saw the fear. I saw the defeat. You were going to run. I could feel it, and it devastated me. It scared the shit out of me because I didn't know how to stop you from doing it. For the first time I saw so clearly how you'd run, and I just didn't know what I could do this time to stop you. So I decided to play it cool. I decided to not put any pressure on you, because God..." tears are already filling her eyes, spilling over into her words "...I just couldn't take it if you ran from me again, I just couldn't handle you pushing me away again. It was killing me to think you might run away from..." her hands gesture wildly between us, cutting the thick air slice for slice "...from this. From us."

She exhales with everything inside her. "...and look how it turned out. You ran. You ran so far from me, I think it might have killed me this time, because we haven't talked since. Because I haven't seen you since. And I was starting to think I never would again."

Barely getting the words out between salty tears, she shakily stands in the middle of my room, back of her hand stifling her sobs. And I need to make this right.

"Ashley, I never wanted to do that...I...I didn't want to run!"

"But you did Spencer! You did!"

"Because you were closing yourself off, you pushed me away!"

"ONCE!"

She shouts it. She screams it. The anger in one word bellows and echoes from every wall inside this apartment.

And then it's so silent. The silence is crystal clear like ice, and her words slice right through it like the sharpest pick.

"I pushed you away once, Spencer. Once. Once for the fifty times you've pushed me away. And I know what you're probably thinking, that I did it to test you, that I did it to make you feel how I feel... and honestly, maybe it is why I did it, maybe I just don't realize it. Because I don't know why I did it...all I know is...I've always been patient with you, Spence. I've always been there for you, even when you've put your walls up, I've waited for you. I've been waiting, for two years now..." her voice is nothing but strong now, saying words she's needed to say for an eternity "...But you couldn't even wait five minutes for me Spencer. You hardly waited when I needed you to. You couldn't even give me support when I was terrified...You left me when I needed you more than anything...And you never came back."

There's nothing out there anymore. Her words have sawed their way between us. Her words have sawed a dividing line. A dividing line that someone has to cross. A line that one of us is going to have to break for us to come together again.

"Ashley..." I trail off so pained I don't even know what to say, because all I know is how right she is. All I know is it's my turn. I need to do something. Her glassy eyes steaming into mine tell me that. Her eyes tell me that once again she's waiting, that she's still waiting.

And I'm still doing nothing.

But then the air changes. The air pops and cracks like a bonfire; a bonfire flaming with all our secrets and desires piled between the logs of our regret. The thick logs of my mistakes. And as she stumbles closer to me, afraid of the fire, fearful of the burn, I realize this could be my biggest mistake. If I don't play this right. If I don't walk out on the coals with her, I could lose her forever.

"Please, Spencer..." she pleads in a voice that I've never heard before...but realy, I have heard It before. I've heard those exact words, in that exact voice, some other time.

"Please just say it."

She keeps moving and the memory rams into me. The drunken memory of what I've always believed never happened. The burning regret that I never remembered.

"Please Spencer..."

One breath away, I can almost feel her tears dropping down to my shaky hands between us. Nothing but a thin layer of empty space between us. Between our shuddering bodies.

"...just do something..."

She is looking me straight in the eyes. Whispering, begging, between clenched teeth; as if she'd lose her self if she unclenched them.

"Please...do something...please be the one to do it. I'm so tired. I'm so tired of always being the one."

I'm crying so hard as she stands crying so hard before me. I'm crying for her bravery. For her honesty. For her vulnerablity. For her putting all of her out there. For her putting everything she keeps safe and hidden inside of her, right in front of me.

"This is it, Spence, this is it because..." She can't look at me now, whispering down to the ground, whispering within herself, "...because if you turn me down now, I don't think I could take it. I don't think I can do it anymore..." Finally her eyes come back to mine. Biting back harsh tears.

"...I don't have any more second chances in me."

Whispered with every shred of sadness a person could have. She waits for me, once again, like she always does. She waits and waits, and I stand frozen. Like so many other times. Like I always do. But she keeps waiting and waiting. Silently pleading with her eyes. With her wet lips. With her beautifully broken smile.

And she sighs. And I can't breathe.

And she whimpers. And I can't hear.

And she's done waiting. Walking straight for the door.

But I'm not done waiting. I'm breathing now. I'm hearing my life slipping away. I'm hearing my life walking out of my life louder than I've ever heard anything.

And I'm not waiting anymore.

No, for once, I'm doing something.

Before I realize it, my hand clumsily grabs hers, snapping her back to me as my lips collide with hers. Falling on the side of her mouth as if I've never done this before. As if I've never kissed someone. And even though it's clumsy, and messy, and sloppy, it's beautiful. It's so painfully beautiful that it makes me realize I really haven't kissed anyone before.

Not like this.

Her lips freeze against mine, wetly pushed against my cheek and mouth. We're not really kissing. It's so much more than kissing, it's so much more than anything I've ever experienced. It's intense and intimate. It's life and death. It's fucking everything. Everything Ive never known. It's us. It's me and her. Ashley and me. Sharing every space between us.

I'm leaning so far into her, she's leaning so far into me. Foreheads strongly resting together, as if we're just too weak to hold them up ourselves. As if we've always needed each other to keep each other from falling. We stay there, just like that, lips panting heavy breaths into each others mouths. It's all hitting us. This moment. This moment that was never supposed to be perfect. This moment that was never supposed to be simple or easy.

And for that reason, alone, it's more perfect than ever.

I can feel her sobs before I see them. I can feel something sad raining down on us, and it frightens me. It worries me. It pulls me from the one place I never ever want to leave; leaning back from her lips, looking through my weepy eyes. Looking to see if I've done something wrong.

But before I can see anything, her hands are already clasped around my neck, roughly. Aggressively. Hungrily and desperately chasing my lips between hers. Sucking them between her mouth. Quickly nodding her head as a small, pleading "no" whimpers from somewhere deep in her body.

And just like that, we're kissing. A real lip to lip, tongue to tongue kiss. More intense, more passionate, more real than anything I've ever experienced.

Because up until this night, I've never experienced anything like it.

Because up until this moment, I've never kissed anyone before.

No, not like this.

Because right now, for the first time, I'm finally kissing her.


	13. Toeing the Line

I've had a lot of boyfriends. I've had a lot of flings. And I've had sex. I've had a lot of sex. I wish I could say it always meant something. I wish I could say it wasn't with empty names and blank faces. But most the time, it was. They were just people. People I never knew. People I never wanted. People I thought I loved. People I knew I was pretending to love. People I don't even remember.

And tonight, in this moment, I have an overwhelming feeling I'm about to do something that is going to change all that. Is going to change everything.

Tonight is going to change me. It already has.

We're only kissing. We've only been kissing. For maybe five or ten minutes. But really it could have been only five seconds. Five seconds and it'd still feel like forever. The ethereal kind of forever. The forever that makes you wonder if you're even still alive because what's happening to you is too good to be true.

And this is too good to be true. One kiss and I'm dead. I'm a goner. I'm falling, man, falling so fast and so far.

I'm so lost and so far gone inside her mouth that I don't even care if I never leave it. I'm actually starting to believe I never will. That's how removed I am. However, I'm not so removed to not understand where the next minutes are heading. I'm not so absorbed in Ashley's taste to miss what that taste actually is. I don't miss the distinct taste of sex inside Ashley's mouth. I don't miss the exact same taste of intimacy reflected in my own.

And I don't want to let go of it. Ever.

Suddenly, Ashley pushes me back into the door, hands never unclasping from behind my neck, and I let out a gasp. From the contact. From the forwardness. From the want I feel permeating through my body; starting from my core and spreading to every limb like molasses. And I know. I know more clearly than anything I could possibly understand in this moment; we're not going to stop. We're not going to stop until it's only time to begin again.

And we will begin again.

Because, in this moment, I know more than I know my own name; this is not a one time thing.

Right now, this more-than-a-one-time thing is starting. Ashley and I are only a few unzipped and unbuttoned clothes from going where we've never gone before. From where we've always needed to go. From where we should maybe never go.

But I don't care. I could care less. Because it just feels right. Because it feels so right. Because I've never wanted anything more than the body pressed against mine. And somehow, with all the meaningless guys from my past. With all my "love" making. With all my one night stands. With all my experience in sex.

I know tonight will be my first time.

Ashley's hands fumble all over my body, trembling and hesitant; almost like she's so unbelievably inexperienced.

I know tonight I am a virgin.

Shivers slide through my bones, tingling my skin as Ashley moans straight into my mouth, rolling and echoing over my tongue.

I know tonight I will have sex like I've never had it before.

One whimpered "Oh God" pierces through the heavy air, from one of us or both of us, I have no idea.

And tonight, I am terrified.

Things are happening so fast. My eyes haven't opened in what feels like forever, and all I want to do is open them. I want to see her. I want to see her as I feel her in all the ways I've only dreamt about. In all the ways I've feared. In all the ways that tell me she's real. That everything is real. That all of this is really happening.

We're actually doing this.

Ashleys tongue draws a masterpiece from my lips down to my neck, pushing her body further into mine, impossibly further, stapling us to the door. Her hands are everywhere, absolutely everywhere; and I'd probably wonder how she can touch me everywhere all at once, if I wasn't already doing the same thing to her. If I wasn't touching her everywhere at once.

And then reality slams into me. It rains and pelts down on me in the hardest coldest droplets.

Holy fuck, we're actually doing this.

Suddenly my eyes are wide open. Suddenly I'm gasping for air.

"Wait" Harshly rasps from my already swollen lips, and it kind sets us both back. It kind of jumps Ashley back from me, fingers instantly covering her mouth, as the most rushed "I'm sorry" spills out of it. More apologies pour from her wet lips, and it becomes horribly awkward because she suddenly seems so far away from me. So far, like we weren't just so close to each other we could have shared a body.

"Oh God, I am an idiot. I'm so sorry Spence, I got…I…"

She nods her head, shaking it off, shaking off her words. Maybe even shaking off what she believes is a mistake. And all I can do is look at her. Look at her with such disbelief.

I just kissed her? Her? The girl who can get a drink, in any bar, in less than 5 seconds? The girl who doesn't even realize half the number of people who hit on her daily? The girl I've wanted to kiss since the first second I laid my coward eyes on her?

It's enough to make something flutter between my ribs. Something I've never felt before.

And I just keep staring. Breathless and shivering, leaning back against my door, I finally look into her eyes. Finding the apprehension there. Finding the fear of a mistake. But more so, I see something I've never seen before. In those dark dark eyes lies a mixture of fog and clarity. Somehow those eyes, now boring through mine, look glazed over and intentional at the same time. I've never seen more clear intent in those eyes, than I do now. And what makes my breath catch in my throat?

I know that intent spells my name. I know that intent crawls all over my body.

And somehow, I'm not as afraid as I should be.

And maybe that's what's really terrifying.

"I shouldn't have…I mean, we… maybe…" She starts, full of insecurity "…we shouldn't have done that."

She finishes in a whisper that would have shot through my heart if I believed a word it. If I believed she meant it at all, even in the smallest percentage. But she doesn't, and I don't either. We should have done this. We so should have done this.

We just should have done it a long long time ago. So so long ago.

"I mean…right?" Now she's looking at me quizzically; expectantly. Pleadingly. She needs me to tell her no. She needs me to reassure her that this was only right. She needs me to take us from the reality of the situation.

She needs me to bring her where I need to go just as much.

So I do.

Walking with slow, almost shuffled, steps, I crawl closer to her. Her breath hitches as I lift a very heavy tentative hand up to her face, fingers softly, loosely, unnecessarily brushing a curl further behind her ear. I can feel her breaths stuttering inside her throat with each gentle graze my fingertips make along her neck. Touching her in every way I never imagined I'd touch anyone. Touching her so brazenly and openly, that I have no clue where I got the courage. I have no clue where I've earned this boldness. But maybe it's because its her standing before me. Maybe it's because I've never felt my life making more sense.

Or maybe it's her eyes that are still questioning mine. Still begging and pleading for something she's too afraid to ask for. Something we're both so afraid to ask for, but something we both want the answer to more than anything.

So I answer.

I answer with my lips softly brushing over hers. So soft like liquid. Like the air you breathe. Almost like everything we're doing is ok because we can barely feel it. Everything we're doing is not wrong because the way we come together is so right. Because we fit.

We just fit.

And I think she agrees, by the way she whimpers into my mouth, like she's already done so many times tonight. But, really, it doesn't matter how many times she's done it; every time feels like the first. Every time shoots a rush of something I've never felt straight into my belly. Dwelling itself a nice turned on hole inside me.

Her hands quickly cradle my neck, thumbs brushing over my jawline, and I love it. I love how the simplest touch is the most complicated and passionate one I've ever experienced. For the briefest moment, to switch angles, she pulls away and when she does, a breath so heavy leaves my lips. I breathe straight into her mouth with everything I've held inside of me for so long. Giving it to her. Giving her all my secrets and wants and desires.

So really, I'm giving her everything that was already hers to begin with. Giving her everything that already had her name on it.

"Spence…" she mumbles as our lips wetly peck short kisses, kind of like we're feeling each other out. Feeling out every inch of our small mouths, that suddenly feel like the biggest newest world. So big and new, we'll never stop feeling them out.

I finally register that she's actually said my name and pull away. Inching just a fraction from her, I know how disoriented my eyes are. I know how clouded and hazy they must look. Because I can feel it. Because I feel like I'm drunk. I'm so drunk, on her body, on those lips, on those eyes that are so heavy lidded.

Those eyes that reflect mine, because really, we're both drinking in every inch of each other in this moment. And we're both sinking out of sobriety right into belligerence. We're sinking so fast, we may never come back up for air.

"Yeah?" I whisper, inches from her mouth, letting her feel the words more than hear them.

"I…um…" she's looking down on my lips, and I've only just realized that her hands are still on my neck, holding me right in place "…I…uh…" She chuckles anxiously and nervously "…I don't remember what I was going to say."

I don't think I believe her. No, I know I don't. I know she needed to say something, to break the moment. To find clarity and meaning inside this overflowing mess we're about to swim in. So I laugh nervously with her. Realizing I need it just as much. Realizing I needed something to break whatever was going on in this room. I needed a break to figure it all out.

And, suddenly, it breaks everything more than I thought it would. More than I needed it to. Because now we're standing apart, inches that feel like miles, panting out breaths that are starting to feel troubled, and maybe even regretful. And they just keep tumbling from our swollen lips, and with each new one, heavier than the last, I feel it punch me a little harder.

Punching reality and our mistakes into my guilty conscience.

But really it's not punching so much as ripping. Ripping, grabbing and stealing away all the things I just had. All the things I want so badly.

All the things I feel drifting away from me, with every word we're not saying.

"Is this..." now I'm wearing Ashley's begging unsure shoes, testing this situation "...I mean, should we stop?"

I'm so afraid. Too afraid of the answer, I can't even look at her.

"I don't know."

A breath of honesty fills the ocean of space between us. Her breath.

"...but I do know..." A voice of honesty slams into the nonexistent space between us. "...that I don't want to stop."

Her voice. It's her voice, and it pulls my eyes right back to hers. She looks confused, she looks somewhere between sure and unsure and it's kind of funny in a strange way how a person can look that way. So unsure and so sure at the same time. And then I only feel sad. Terribly sad at how a person can have all they've ever wanted right between their trembling hands, but not have it at all at the same time.

"I don't either."

But even through my sadness, through my disbelief, and fear, I can still find my voice to speak the truth. Because all I taste is sex from Ashley's mouth and kiss. All I feel is my overwhelming need for sex damply between my legs. And I still want that sex more than I've ever wanted anything.

So I'm not going to give up.

And it looks like maybe she's not either. Because she's not really doing anything. With all our vague confessions, we're just standing here. Frozen. Paused. Staring.

Waiting.

Yeah, we're waiting, I've realized. Waiting for who's going to make the next move. For who's going to take the next step. Who's going to plunge us into the bad idea we can't take back. But it's the only idea we can think of. It's the only idea I have in my mind, and it's all I see in her eyes.

So I go with it.

We both go for it.

We inch closer to each other, no words needed this time. And we both know there'll be no more words. We both know the only words we'll hear will come in the form of mere sounds from our soon to be bruised lips.

We both know we're not going back. We both know we can only keep going.

So we keep going.

Painfully slow we lean our lips together, still giving the other the option of turning away. Of stopping this.

But it's too late, our moist mouths just connected. Breaths, gasps, moans, and whimpers slip in between, somehow all coming out at once as we come together from opposite angles, lips slanting and gliding perfectly; languidly. Slow and teasing. There's no turning back with kisses like these. There's no stopping something that tastes this good. That feels this divine.

Her hands drift up my torso, barely grazing over my t-shirt, and mine gently cup her face between them. We're slowly divulging ourselves. We're eating ice cream from the tub. We're just testing, tasting, pretending we're not going to eat the whole damn thing with the freezer door wide open before us.

Pretending this isn't really going to happen. That we still have the ability to stop.

But we don't have that ability to stop. The moments of stopping ended with one scorching kiss. One kiss that starts a storm inside our mouths. A storm of tongues and lips and teeth, hands roaming like they've never felt another.

Like they're searching for the one thing to keep them alive.

And as she pushes me back onto my bed, falling on top of me in such a way that is perfectly imperfect; legs slipping between legs in all the right ways. I suck her lips harder between mine. I wrap my arms tighter around her tiny torso, pulling her close. Gasping out her name.

Gasping out the one name I've been searching for to keep me alive.

Gasping out the name of the one person I've always wanted. I've always loved. And I'll always remember.


	14. Tainted Sunday Dinner

Little Lindsey runs wildly around my legs, nearly knocking me over, and I already wish I were home. Five minutes after arriving, I already wish I were anywhere but here. Here where Clay's adorably annoying daughter crashes into me. Here where my loving mother and fathers eyes sting into my guilty conscience.

Here where a once completely touchable brunette is now completely untouchable.

How I wish I were home, with that brunette, where she is nothing but touchable.

Oh how I wish.

Sunday dinner is here and with it comes nothing but torture. Torture and awkwardness. And I'm already kind of dying inside from the knots of discomfort. From the rubber band balls of tension. Everyone's shuffling around the kitchen and living room, getting their drinks. Catching up on each others week. Finding their place on this normal-for-them night. 

Everyone but Glen, who has another away game. Whose absence is the only blessing on this sure to be shifty and dodgy and nowhere-close-to normal-for-us night.

Someone brushes by me, so soft, like they're barely there. But I know they're there. I know it too well.

I knew their presence before I even felt it.

After last night, I'll forever know who encompasses that unbelievable unique touch.

---------------  
__

My bed has become the grounds for a fight. A struggle. A competition of power. Of control. Of who gets to set the pace for this night. Of who wants this more. But as nails dig down over my hip, and my teeth pinch a swollen lip between them, I realize there's no struggle here. There's no fight.

We both want this in equally overwhelming amounts.

Side pressed to side, body threaded and tangled with body, we move together, effortlessly and harmoniously. Rocking together right in time. My hips roll into her, searching for something they've never searched harder for in their life. Unless it was against my own hand. And even then it could never come close to comparing with this.

Because this time, it's actually her and not my own creation of her. It's not my imagination. And she gives me so much more than my measly imagining fingers ever could.

Ashley breathes into my ear, incoherent words I don't understand, but meaningless words that mean the world. Her lips smooth down my neck, tingling every nerve in my body as my hand slips beneath her shirt. Feeling her skin for the first time. Feeling like I'm feeling a bare body for the first time. It's so smooth, so soft, so unlike the bodies of men I've skimmed my fingers across in the past.

This skin is heaven.

Her body reacts to my touch. Her body rocks further against me, as I feel it so hot against my singing hand. Smooth fingertips fit perfectly inside the curve of her spine. Instinctively and immediately drawing a straight line down it. Agonizingly slow. Dripping drops of my hot touch into the shallow crevice, and as she shivers against me, as she pants my name, I know what I'm doing is good. I know she likes it. I know it's doing to her what her lips are doing to me.

And it floods my center with more arousal than I thought possible.

Suddenly, a leg swings over my body, never breaking contact as it wraps around me. Pulling her body with it, she straddles my hips. Before I can blink an eye, she has my hands pinned to the pillow above my head; holding them there roughly.

She stares down on me with so much sincerity, with so much affection, completely contrasting her fingers tight hold of my wrists, that it makes me so unbelievably hot. Hotter than I've ever been. Hotter than the hottest inferno, and in this moment, I know things are now in her control. She's setting the pace from here on out, and while I fought her for it mere minutes before, I'm not going to fight any more. Right now, in these seconds, with her holding every ounce of control over me, I don't care.

I'm handing her everything I am...with no hesitation.

The bed creaks as she leans over me. The wind outside whistles as she licks her lips. Everything is so amazingly intense. So beyond sensual. I've never known this kind of intimacy.

I've never felt so close to orgasm, and we've barely even touched.

Lips hover over mine like a metal detector, and I'm finding it hard to swallow. My throat feels so dry as her eyes never leave my eyes. Seconds feel like hours as she remains above me, just like that, keeping us connected in every way but through our mouths.

Where I want her most.

And then she gives it to me. The bed comes to life again as her lips push against mine. Kissing me with sizzling love I've never ever known. A crafty, definitely experienced tongue teasingly licks at the skin below my bottom lip. Flicking over the curved dimple where chin meets mouth. And it drives me crazy. It pushes my center against her ass more and more and maybe that's why she keeps doing it. Maybe it's why she keeps driving me closer and closer to an edge that might kill me. A plummet that might take me forever with it.

But I could care less.

I want it to take me

Because right now, in this moment, I know I'm already drowning a beautiful death between my clenching soaked legs.  


---------------

Sitting in my usual seat, across from her blazing eyes. Next to my clueless father. And inside my own hopeless turned on cage, I feel myself burn away in Novembers chill.

I feel myself on fire in the unfamiliar familiarity of everything around me.

Everyone's settling into their own respective seats. Mom and dad on opposite ends of the table. Clay across from Chelsea. Putting Ashley and me right among the couples who are facing each other.

Ashley and me. A couple created last night. A couple of best friends seeing each other in a new naked bright light.

Ashley and me. 

A couple that is not a couple.

"Ashley?"

Moms voice calls Ashleys startled eyes from my shift ones. Looking alarmed and anxious, she nods her answer, waiting for what we all know Paula's going to ask.

"Would you mind saying grace for us tonight?"

Ashley smiles, nervously, and I wonder if it's because she feels as guilty as me. I wonder if she feels as unholy as me, burning with sin at this rather holy table.

Hands hold hands, eyes close patiently. But it's her eyes that remain on mine, holding hands across the table with a look. A look that makes us both gulp. A look that feels like it'll never let go.

"Bless Us O Lord, for these thy gifts which we are about to receive..."

That comforting voice rasps in way that makes sitting at this table beyond uncomfortable.

Crossing my legs, she holds my stare.

---------------  
__

"God Spencer, I want you so fucking much."

Her lips smack away from my mouth, breathing above me, hands still clamped around mine. Our chests pant and pant, batting into each other with every exaltation.

"Just so much. Since the first time I saw you in the Bean that day."

She whispers her confessions, her truths, her secrets that hit me all at once. Hitting me so hard I think I might have even whimpered.

Her eyes drift over my eyes, down my nose, across my lips, and between the non existent line our bodies haven't drawn. Slowly, brown falls into blue, as she lets one hand untangle from my fingers, softly and naturally dribbling down the inside of my arm. Where the skin is so soft, so sensitive, so chill inducing.

Leaning in with intentional hesitancy, "so pretty" puffs from her mouth against my nose before she kisses the corner of my lips. Before she places kiss for kiss on every inch of my skin. Over my cheeks, fluttering against my jaw, licking to my ear.

"You know I love you, right?"

All I can do is moan and mumble an agreeing reply.

"You know I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you?"

All I can do is die inside with a nod.

"Because I do Spencer, so much. So much that I still can't believe I have you right here and right now."

All I can do is melt between those lips drawing dizzying patterns down my neck. All I can do is blend with those butter fingers, sliding over my sides, careful to not touch the outside of my flattened breasts. Careful to not give me everything I need more than anything. 

Courageous hands slip beneath my too big t-shirt, tentatively skimming my waist, making my muscles contract and relax over and over again as she inches her way closer. Closer to where I am bra-less. Closer to why I can't stop arching into her hands. Arching more and more into her tight body.

Lips glide over mine as if we have never done this with anyone else. As if our open mouths belong to no one but each other.

In a flash, her fingers disappear from beneath my shirt, and I'm about to moan in protest, when I feel those same fingers tugging at the bottom hem of it.

---------------

"So what did you do last night Spence?"

Almost dropping the fork between my fumbling fingers, I flounder for an answer.

"I...uh..." Glimpsing from Ashley's unnerving amused look, I turn to Chelsea "...Madison and I watched TV and then I crashed."

"Ahh took it easy, huh? Strange isn't it? How old we are? Remember the days we stayed out till practically sunrise?"

Clay laughs, in agreement, and I can't stop the flooding inside my center, remembering the last time I stayed up all night.

Remembering last night, where I stayed awake till sunrise.

Fucking the girl across from me. The brunette with the wicked untouchable grin.

---------------  
__

Hands tug at the bottom of my Shins concert tee, beckoning me to sit up with her.

So I do.

I lift my sluggishly turned on body to meet hers. Allowing her legs to wrap around my slim waist, actually pulling them further with my hands holding her thighs. Bringing her light body to sit inside my little lap.

Our faces millimeters apart, we smile, a genuine peanut butter and jelly smile. A brief moment of our former selves shining through, mixed with our newfound selves sliding in between. Because it's a smile we've worn on our faces so many other times; and it's a smile that means the most right inside this moment.

Cause we're finally seeing everything. We're finally seeing each other in all the ways we've always dreamt about.

The realization brings my fingers to her cheek, without even realizing it; whispering over the flushed skin with the softest zigzag touches. Just taking in all that she is. Just taking all that is mine for maybe only tonight.

And her eyes tell me she knows. She knows just what I'm doing. She's feeling those same exact PB&J thoughts.

She can't believe we're together like this either.

We're finally everywhere we should be.

And then we're finally kissing again. We're kissing for the realization. We're kissing for the proximity.

We're kissing because we finally can.

Breaking apart, far too soon for my liking, a groan escapes my lips because of it, and with a light sexy chuckle, she cups my neck once more. Suddenly, she eyes my glazed ones dead on. And even through the glaze I read her serious look word for word. I completely understand she's saying she loves me with that look.

She's saying all the words she doesn't have the time to say now.

And then she's lifting my shirt, and it feels like forever. But I let her take her time, because she's sucking on my throat. Because she's nailing my untouched skin.

Because she makes me feel numbly good as she bares everything I hide.

My t-shirt flies behind her body, and I see her eyes staring down at my naked chest. I see her getting lost inside my frozen nipples. I feel her fingers tentatively drawing over them.

I hear my sharp intakes of breath filling the silent static space between us. Before her delicate voice whispers her wishes inside it.

"Lie down"

---------------

"Mom and dad, if it's ok with you..." Clay smiles towards his daughter next to his wife "...Chells and I were thinking we might throw Linds a fifth birthday party here next week? We would have it at our place, but it's so small and-"

"Of course honey!"

My mom, always the hostess, exclaims into the air.

But I'm already lost in the conversation. I'm already missing from this table, as a foot pokes suggestively at mine. A foot pulls my eyes across the table to hers. Where she's eating as if no one's watching. Where she's undressing me with her eyes as if we were alone.

As if we're right back inside the sanctuary of my bed.

---------------

_  
Her hands peel away my clothes as if I were an orange. Delicately and gently. Taking her time to perfectly undress my shivering body. Leaving nothing between us. Lips trailing behind her hands, she touches me on every unmarked spot. She tastes me everywhere, leaving her mark everywhere it's not already._

"Ashley."

Rumbles from my lips between a moan, saying it to ask for more without having to ask for it. Saying it to reaffirm she's really here with me. To reaffirm that it's not my hand dragging nails over the insides of my thighs. It's not my hand mutely thrusting into my body.

That it's really her, and as if she understands, she rasps "Spence" reassuringly, as her lips drag across my abdomen. Leaving a sticky trail in their wake.

A trail I hope will still be sticky tomorrow.

A trail I hope will never unstick.

I'm practically naked beneath her fully clothed body. Just my white cotton bikini briefs between us. Just my simple underwear coming between a complicated situation.

And then her fingers are rolling over the band at my hips. Her hands are palming the outside of my thighs, feigning innocence. As if she weren't trying to take off my underwear.

Pretending she were only touching me. Pretending she had no other motives. But I know the truth. She's getting both. She's having me how she wants me while she inches for everything else she wants.

She's having her cake and eating it too.

But I don't mind.

"Take them off."

Grunts from my whimpering mouth, as I hand her the whole damn bakery with a silver fork.

---------------

I'm lactose-intolerant. But my mother still loves to make all my favorite desserts. She still loves to practically shove them in my face.

Like right now. Key Lime pie, my favorite, sits between me and Ashley [my other favorite, and it all seems kind of cruel. The way my favorite dessert and my favorite sex sit right before me. So close.

And so out of my reach.

Everyone's had a piece, but me, and of course I'm pouting on the inside. I'm ridiculously pouting until I look up from the pie to Ashley [my true and real favorite

And then I'm ridiculously blushing and smiling.

Because her lips turn in a way that is too familiar and too close to last night.

---------------__

Ashleys breath paints condensation so close to where I'm so wet. Her moisture is so close to pooling with mine.

"Spence..." a voice so husky whispers so high on my thigh, "...look at me."

She gently orders from low on my body, and I can't help but try with all my might to pry my clasped eyes open. Although it's practically pitch black in my room, I can still see the outline of her face and her features on it. I can still see everything as the moon shines perfectly over her profile.

The moon shows those pouty-because-they're-swollen lips mouthing "I love you"

And then she's sliding back up my body. She's dragging every inch of her over me. And it's kind of torturous, being so close to everything I've ever wanted, and instantly losing it.

But still feeling it all the same.

"I want to see you..." shakily breathes into my ear "...I want to see you as I do this."

And then her fingers are inside me. But they're not really inside me. They're just close enough to feel that way. Fumbling over my entrance. Feeling me out like we felt lips earlier. Tips of fingers trace over my every angle and plane. My every curve and dip. My every nerve.

Tips of fingers move far too easily against me. Drawing everywhere, scribbling outside every one of my lines.

I'm panting so hard. Like seriously panting, and I don't know if it's from the pleasure or the anticipation. I don't know if it's from all my fantasies or the reality of those fantasies coming to life.

My whimpers escalate, elevating an octave higher with each one. So high I don't even recognize my own squeaking voice.

But she keeps on touching me. She keeps on pushing through my folds, gently, too gently. Barely touching me. Just skimming my slick surfaces. Just grazing my glazed points.

Just driving me crazy by giving me pieces of everything. Pieces of everything that is me.

With all my might, I open my eyes and look at her. I look into her eyes, and I realize why she's touching me so languidly.

I realize she's not really touching me for my pleasure but for hers. But then, as I try and focus more on her wide eyes, I realize she's not even touching me for her pleasure either.

She's feeling me out to do just that. She's feeling me out to feel me out. To feel everything I am. Like an explorer to uncharted waters, she feels me to read me. To understand me. To see me in all the ways she's never known. To learn my body.

To make it hers.

---------------

The lights outside my parents house are off. Painting this new world so dark. My brothers taillights fade out in the distance. Leaving me inside this new world with only her. My anxious pants create clouds in the cold as I walk to my car.

Pushing us further into this new world that is only ours now.

"So..."

Breathes beside me as I fidget with the key to my '98 Bronco.

"So..."

I turn my eyes towards her as my door unlocks.

"No buttons this time?"

We stay like that, just staring, my body still facing my car. Staring until she quirks her lips, giving me a small crooked smirk. And that's all I need. That's what drives me over the edge.

One burdened but electric sigh blows past my lips, as I push into her. As I finally push her into my unlocked door.

Crashing my lips over hers for a short heavy needy kiss.

I keep my hands clenched around the collar of her pea coat [not even realizing they were ever there, as I pull away just far enough to mutter into the cold air between us. Warming her lips with my breaths condensation.

"No buttons."

Eyes already glazed over, she licks her lips. Most likely chapping them in this bitter cold Ohio air.

"Should I..." She seems dizzy as she falls towards me slightly "...want me to follow you home?"

Too scared to admit why she's really following me, she slides her hands under my jacket, cupping my hips.

And too lost inside that touch and my own arousal, I can only nod. Whispering a quiet "please" against her lips, before I greedily suck them between my guilty ones.

---------------  
__

When I come, Ashley is on top of me. Her fingers so far inside me, two of them deeply curling. Somehow touching me deeper than any person, any man, has ever touched me before.

When I come, I shudder and shake against her palm. Panting her name, over and over again, as if I've never said another name in my life.

When I come, Ashley collapses on my sweaty body. Absentmindedly kissing away the salt from my shoulder.

When I come, I curl myself into a safe ball inside Ashley's strong shaking arms. Wrapping ourselves in a tight cocoon, on my warm bed.

Safe until the morning light.

Safe until I breathe again.

Safe until I gently push her from my shoulder, rolling us over on my bed.

Safe until I slyly whisper "My turn".

Dipping my greedy tongue between her beautiful lips.

Tasting my tainted salt inside her guilty mouth.


	15. Her Numbers

"_Crazy, huh?"_

"Hmm?" Absently mumbles from my curious but not that curious lips, as I squint out over the rolling lawn of Lincoln Park. Blades of grass twirled between my sweaty fingers, I stare towards the blinding water of the pond. Needing to turn away from the bright reflection, feeling it burn my eyes, but I don't. I can't. I'm incapable of pulling my attention away from the petite figure standing before the gleaming body of water.

"You know, Glen getting married. It's crazy, right? I never thought we'd see the day."

My eyes flick down to my lap, "Oh...yeah..." fingers pulling a wind swept curl behind my ear, hoping it can distract from the feelings of distraught and dread flooding through my heart, "…crazy."

Without even realizing it, I return to the pond. Brazenly and boldly looking straight at her. And even as Aiden laughs, I don't break my gaze. No, I just keep on looking.

Because Aiden's been laughing for a while now. He's been laughing like this since last weeks train wreck of an engagement party. A train wreck solely because it was for Ashley and Glen.

Therefore, it was a train wreck for only me. However, to be honest, I don't really have a right to moan about how bad the party was. I have no right to complain about something I barely remember. Pathetically, all I remember is my bubbly champagne glass.

And I'm still wondering if that's a blessing or a curse.

"Yup."

Aiden keeps laughing in a way that makes my arms go a little numb. That makes my heart thump a little harder inside my chest. Because Aidens mindless chuckling isn't so mindless these days. No, everything about Aiden sounds more knowing with every passing day.

And I just keep on looking.

"You should go talk to her."

I don't even try to act like I don't know he knows I'm watching. I don't even pretend to not care about Ashley anymore. Because I obviously care. I obviously care so much and it's pointless to act like I don't. It's tiring. It's so tiring. And it's too hard to act like I'm not tired. Especially when those alarming chuckles putter out of Aidens lips.

Especially when Aiden makes me feel like watching is ok.

"I don't know. She's been weird this past week."

And it's the truth, she has been. Closed off and sad, she basically shuffles through her days. Sleeping through daylight hours with eyes wide open. I've never seen her quite like this. And I can't help but feel like I'm to blame. I can't help but feel like something terrible happened at that party, after my 30th glass of champagne. 

Because everything feels changed.

Because Ashley feels different.

Because right now, isolated and introverted, Ashley stands by a pond alone, while I sit beneath a shady oak tree right behind her. Staring at her like she were a million miles away.

"Exactly why you should go talk to her."

Aiden persists and I don't even put up a fight. Because, really, Aiden doesn't know anything. Aiden is as clueless as he's ever been. And I'm still as paranoid. I'm so paranoid that it's all in my head.

That's what I have to keep telling myself.

"Fine…" using my trusty humor deflections, I grunt and stand with a manufactured huff "… If you're gonna twist my arm about it, I'll go talk to her. Man, you're so needy, Dennison."

"Yeah. Ok. I'm needy…" With a warm smile he rolls his eyes, and as I walk away, I hear him still shouting behind me "…we both know you're the needy one!"

Nodding my head, graciously, with a light chuckle, I smile softly. Thankful for Aiden. Thankful for his cluelessness that I have to keep reminding myself of.

But the further I walk away from him and the closer I come to entering Ashley zone, the smile deflates. My hands ball into clenching fists.

She's so distant that even as I stand behind her, smelling her strawberry shampoo, I still feel like she's not even there. Facing the glimmering water, with arms crossed, her feet scuff away at the grass. As if she just doesn't know what to do with herself. As if she's so hopelessly lost.

And maybe she is.

And maybe that's what has me so scared.

That's what has me taking a deep breath, hoping I can find her. Hoping I can bring her back home.

"Whaddya say…" one gentle nudge to the back of her shoulder with the front of mine, I nod towards the swampy waters "…Wanna take a swim and test the waters? I hear it's really warm this time of year."

It makes her laugh lightly, and I feel it lightly shine inside my heart.

"Sure…" Her eyes squint out over the water where flying creatures buzz about everywhere "…you first."

"I always knew you were a smart one, Davies."

I smile towards her, but it falls short. It feels pointless, because this time she laughs in a way that isn't so light. This laughter is nothing but pitiful.

And it keeps ringing in my ear, so loud, that I keep trying. I keep looking.

"So whatcha doin over here, PB?"

Using a gentle voice, as if I were talking to a wounded child, I lean closer to her. But she only shrugs.

"Just taking in the view."

She's not even hiding the fact she's hiding something. And I'm adding even more layers to my humor suit.

"Well see, there's your problem! You're facing the wrong way, Aiden and I are behind you."

She barely laughs and I'm not quite sure what to do. Usually it takes only one joke to get her to open up. Usually it takes nothing for her to give me everything.

So I keep trying.

"Come on Peanut, why are you over here when we've got macaroni salad from The Market back there…" Pointing behind us, I laugh sincerely. "…it's your favorite, I got it just for you. But Aidens unsupervised over there, and you know if we leave him too long, he'll eat it all up. He'll eat everything, and then my kind gesture will just become a waste."

I giggle in a way to relieve the tension. But it relieves nothing. It only adds to it because she only looks more sad. She only whispers "it's not a waste, thank you, Spence" so warmly. So appreciatively. And then she sighs like she knows just what I'm doing. And it makes me want to hug her more than anything.

So I reach for her. I reach to pull her back from pulling away, gently wrapping my fingers around her arm.

"What's up Ash? I know something's upsetting you, is it..." I take a deep breath, not wanting to make this about me, but missing hours from that train wreck of a night are nagging, ripping and tearing my mind, "…is it me? did I do something wrong?"

Her eyes find mine in a flash, and for the first time in a week, I finally see Ashley. I see her as I've always known her and I know without a doubt this has nothing to do with me. And while I thought that'd make me feel better, it only makes me feel worse.

Because if I didn't cause this, how can I fix it? How can I make her better?

"Of course not."

Her reply is genuine and honest, and for one moment she looks ok. For one moment she seems relieved because she's made me feel better. And like the wind picking up, she's sad again. She's turned around, drifting over that pond.

Drifting so far away from me.

And I keep reaching.

"Then what is it? I mean, you don't have to tell me, if you don't want. But if you're suffering…" I bite my lip, squinting towards the trees lining the edge of the water "…then jelly's suffering too."

"I know." She whispers it so softly, but it touches me so unbelievably much. Her sincerity pierces through me with just two words.

And then she sucks in a deep breath. She sucks in all her troubles, ready to release them when she exhales. Ready to give them to me. Ready to let me help.

Slowly drawing her arm between us, she slides up the sleeve of her thin shirt. Displaying the inside of her wrist, where her tattoo lives.

I've seen it countless times. I've watched her absently trace it every day. Seven simple black numbers etched into her tan skin. But I know they're not simple. I've never asked what they stand for, those numbers 092505. Something about it felt too private. Too personal. Something told me it was not a matter of asking, but a matter of her being ready to tell.

So I've waited.

"I know you've seen this before." She breathes out, thumb instinctively brushing over her ink covered skin. "…and I know you're curious as to what it means."

I merely look towards her. Words are pointless. We both know she's right.

Both our eyes watch her thumb naturally stroking over her wrist, before she crosses her arms again.

"It's a date. September 25th 2005." I swallow hard, realizing that it's also today's date, just two years later. "The day my mother died."

I've never ever been good at consoling people. I've never been the one to shine in a emergency. If I'm going to be honest, I don't know how to take care of people. I'm awkward and uncomfortable. I'm the girl who makes jokes. I'm the girl who laughs and then cries when she gets home.

I'm the girl who doesn't know what the hell to do when someone else cries before they laugh.

But when I see the tiny held back tears in Ashley's eyes, I don't even wait to wrap my arm around her, pulling her close to my side. Not going for a full hug, and not because of my awkward consoling issues. No I'm doing it for her. Somehow I just know she doesn't want to be treated like she needs to be taken care of.

However, I care about her, I care about her so much and her loss hurts me too. Hurts me so much I can't stop myself from apologizing.

"Ash. I'm so sor-"

"Don't apologize or pity me Spence. Please, don't feel bad for me. It was two years ago, and it was an even longer time coming before that. It's just..." She harshly wipes her eyes, and I know it's not because she minds crying in front of me. I know she just doesn't want to cry any more tears over something she's cried rivers over already. "...I just have a hard time when it gets close to the day of...you know...when she..."

Arms still crossed, her voice follows the breeze over the water, as she finally lets her body lean into mine.

"How did she...I mean if you don't mind, how did she die?"

"Breast cancer. She fought it for a good two years. One minute she was in remission, the next it was in her bones. It was only a few more months of struggling and fighting after that."

Simply stating the facts, she removes herself from the pain of the situation. From the weight of it. And suddenly I feel strange. So strange that I'm only finding out about this now. Almost a year of becoming friends, growing closer to someone, to her, than I've ever been with anyone, and I've never known about the biggest thing to happen in her life.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"You never asked?" Through nervous laughter, she leans closer to me because she knows. She knows I can't understand why it's something we've never talked about. And judging by the way she shakes her head, catching the unsure look in her eyes, I realize maybe it's something even she can't understand.

"I don't know why I never brought it up. It's not from a lack of love or respect for my mom. Nothing could be farther from the truth. I loved my mom with all of this..." she lightly pats her chest "...just so much. When I lost her, it just broke me. Completely broke me. No matter how much knowledge or preparation I had. It didn't matter. Nothing can prepare you for death. You know? And the reason I haven't told you yet is...it's because...I don't want to be like defined by it...I don't know..." she's frustrated, but she keeps trying "...all my friends from home. All these people back in Cleveland...they all looked at me differently after she died. They saw this girl that I didn't want to be. They saw this weak weak girl who lost her mother. Who lost the only family she ever had."

My hand pulls her closer without even realizing it, needing to comfort her.

"Ash, you are the strongest person I know. You could never look weak." 

"But I was." Quietly spoken with every grain of truth she holds, and I realize there's no need to fight her on this. So I merely look down towards our feet so close together on the ground. Watching the way her bare toes curl and uncurl in the grass.

"I was lost there for a while Spence. My home didn't feel like my home. My friends didn't feel like my friends. All I saw there was the life I used to have, and that life just...it just wasn't mine anymore."

Suddenly, the light bulb goes off as I turn to her "...and that's when you came here?"

She looks up at me with new, warm eyes, "Yeah. That's when I came here and that's when I found a life again cause..." For the first time in awhile she smiles with a shred of happiness "...that's when I found you."

I can't help but give her a small grin. Even through the sadness of the memory, even through the losses of her life, I can't help but be grateful for gaining her in mine.

"The same goes for me..." shyness fills my every inch, as I finally show her some truth, I finally open myself up to her, knowing she needs it. Knowing I need it. "...you know, I found a life too, when I found you."

Still equally leaning into each other, we hold eyes. We lock looks. And then she giggles.

"Well obviously, Spencer. that's a given. It's me we're talking about here. Ashley Davies."

A laugh that's never felt so good leaves my lips and things feel right again. We stand there together in silence. My arm sits around her shoulders, hand hovering over her collarbone. Never feeling more comfortable.

But I still have to let her know. I still have to show her how much I care.

"I'm sorry Ash."

A silent beat. A beat of understanding.

"I know."

The air becomes easy, light, and I realize she doesn't want any more sympathy. I realize she wants to move on. I know she needs to.

"Thank you Spencer."

She says it softly. And I just hold her closer.

"You never have to thank me, Ash. I'm always here for you. And you can always come to me. Always."

She rests on my shoulder, and I don't even have time to stop myself from lightly kissing the top of her head. Feeling more natural with her than I've ever felt.

"Yeah, always? Like always always? Or just like...always sometimes?"

She giggles genuinely, taking a lighthearted jab at me, and I feel a breath of relief file out of me. Solely for hearing her as herself again. For hearing my Ashley. For hearing her and knowing she's ok.

"Always always always always..." rushes from my lips before she chuckles her way out of my arms, throwing a hand over my mouth.

"Ok, I get it. I'm reading you loud and clear."

Breathless and still chuckling, I lightly take her hand "Good. Always remember it, ok?"

"Yeah..." She rolls her eyes, "Always."

Face to face, we laugh a little longer, before it dribbles away and all that's left is her hand in mine. Burning my skin the longer it stays there. And as I let go of it, nearly blinded by the rock resting on her left ring finger, I remember who she belongs to. I remember this is not my place.

"Does...uh...does Glen know?" I'm looking down to the ground, not even sure why.

"No, no, you're the first to know, you're always the first to know Spence..." She says automatically, not even giving it a second thought, and then she changes, her tone completely drops and flattens "... which...I guess after what we talked about at the party, I kind of have to stop doing..." that brings my eyes to hers, utterly perplexed, and she just looks away. She just looks away as a heavy sigh pushes past her lips "...I have to stop making you that person. You know, the person I lean on so much. I have to lean on him now."

And there's that fuzzy train wreck. There are the pieces coming back to me, but they're blurry and jagged. Their colors are faded and I still can't see picture they're creating. And it feels like I'll never know what that picture is.

Because I'll never ask. Something feels like I lost that right when I lost the ability to remember.

We stand there in somewhat awkward silence, and I already know we're feeling it for different reasons. We're feeling it for things that are beyond my control. All I want to do is find that control. All I want to do is discover the reasons for this tension.

But then I remember what this day is for her. I remember everything it holds. I remember what she's going through. And I'm not going to push it anymore. She doesn't need anything more to deal with here. She doesn't need any reason to stop smiling or laughing today.

Tentatively linking my hand with hers, I softly and genuinely reassure her "You can lean on me, Ash. That's never ever going to change."

"Good."

Her voice sounds choked, and I'm sure she's feeling the weight of this day weighing on her. I'm sure she's filled up with so much emotion. And remembering something I have packed in our picnic, I'm going to try and lift that weight.

"You wanna go for a walk or something? You know we can talk..." I'm quick to reassure her "...or not talk. Whatever you want. I thought it might be nice to mosey around this place. But just you and me, k? Just us, cause Aiden's a drag, man..." that gets her already smiling mouth laughing, as I keep going "...so you wanna do that? I'll even find you the coolest walking stick in town." 

Her smile floods my insides with warmth. Her smile tells me a thousand thank yous. Thank yous I've never needed.

"I'd really like that."

We keep our eyes on each other, sharing words with a look, before we both start walking.

"Oh and we have to bring the secret sandwiches I stashed away for us." I say slyly, casting her a look, finding her smiling wildly at me. Eyebrows raised.

"Secret sandwiches just for us, huh?" 

"Yup." One proud head nod and she laughs adorably.

"As in 'we are what we eat' kind of sandwiches?"

"Something like that..." We walk closer together, feeling a big smile spreading from her face onto mine, "...You know, I was right, you are one smart cookie, Miss Davies. I knew there was a reason I kept you around." She threads her hand with mine, holding onto me tightly, giving me two squeezes, and I can't help but continue honestly and genuinely "...one out of a million reasons."

With a deep breath, her thumb lightly brushes over my skin, sending shivers through my body.

"I love you Spence."

Both our eyes fixed straight ahead, I don't have to look at her as I whisper "I love you too." 

I don't have to look to see if she knows I mean it.

I know she knows.

I know because I've never meant it more.


	16. Dreaming Morning Memories

_Shallow and even, Ashleys breaths patter through the easy silence inside my quiet bedroom. Through the blinds, specks of early morning sunshine splatter the white comforter covering our barely clothed bodies._

She sleeps comfortably on her stomach, face snuggled into the side of my pillow, so close to my shoulder. I want so badly to brush my fingers over her skin, feel her in all the ways I still can't get used to and probably never will. It's just too good to ever get used to. It's just too fucking amazing to ever take for granted. She's too good to be true. I'd never take her for granted, like I so rashly have for the past two years. Not anymore. Never again. And it only makes me want to touch her more. I want to make sure she's really here. But I'd much rather let her sleep. I don't want to pull her from her comforting dreams. I'd spend forever watching her live inside safe places that keep her from the reality of this morning.

This morning where, once again, we'll have to face the consequences of our nightly dirty deeds.

A breezy breath pushes past my light lips.

The thing is, while I should be facing those consequences, I'm not. While I should be thinking of all the wrong I've done. All the morals I've gone against. All the unspoken rules I've broken and all the sins I've committed. I'm not. They're nowhere near my brains trains of thought. I just can't wrap my brain around it. Around all the things I should feel.

Regret. Remorse. Guilt.

I can't wrap myself inside those things, because I don't feel them. I don't feel any of them. All I feel is Ashley. Her tender body beside mine. Her constant and comforting puffs of air against my arm. Her kisses in the night, all over my damp body. Confessions pushed inside me as if I were her diary. Leaving me with her love letters pressed to my skin, written between her blazing lips. Singed inside my body forever.

I've been up for just a few minutes now, lying flat on my back, just watching her sleep. Peacefully. Beautifully. I've never done this before, just watching someone sleep. I've never ever thought to do something so cheesy and ridiculously corny.

But here I am, regardless, stuck inside her bed head locks. Utterly entranced by her blushed cheeks. Hungry for her swollen lips and flushed body. Wishing I could touch all of it, all of her, at once. Waiting till I finally can touch her again. Starving to have her in every way I possibly can. Like I did last night. Like I did the night before.

Like she were mine all along.

An instinctive hand sleepily slides out from under her chest, reaching towards my body. She wraps it around my neck, idly and loosely holding me there. Even through a sound sleep, she still keeps me close. She still needs me near, as her body rolls to the side, tossing a heavy leg over both of mine. Holding me captive, and suddenly I have no problem with being held against my own will. No problem at all.

Leaning up slightly, I press a soft kiss into her hair, and gently fall onto my back once again. Her hand moves with me, falling further down on my chest, revealing the inside of her wrist, revealing her lone tattoo.

Lightly and hesitantly, I pull my hand from beneath the covers, taking hers inside it. Gently letting my thumb brush over her skin, barely grazing it. Leaving ghosts of touches against her as another breath pushes past my lips.

"Morning."

Groggy and sleep filled, she whispers into my neck. It tickles my throat in the best kind of way. Sending shivers down my spine, as I whisper "morning" right back, my eyes never leaving her numbers. Those numbers that kind of mean everything.

Fingers loosely, awkwardly, tied together on my chest, she softly grazes the back of my hand.

"Whatcha thinkin about?"

Her heads tilts back, leaning on her own pillow, and through the silence, I know her eyes ask for my attention. And while that's a plea I never waste time in granting. While that's a question I love answering, I have to do something else first. Slowly, thoughtfully, I pull her wrist to my lips, lightly kissing everything she's lost, everything that means everything to her.

And ultimately, everything that means everything to me. Because those numbers, in all their pain and sorrow, gave me the best thing to ever come into my life.

They brought her to me.

I let my lips trail up over the heel of her palm, dragging them to the middle where all her life lines reside. Softly kissing them, right in the middle of her hand. I think I hear her sigh in a way that's kind of like a moan, and I finally clasp our hands together, slowly rolling over to face her.

"I was thinking about you."

Shyfully and honestly, I whisper into the space between us, my eyes getting lost in the space between her parted upturned lips.

"Yeah?"

She asks equally bashful, as if she still can't believe I might think of her in the same way she thinks of me. As if she's just waiting for me to take it back. Take all of this back, because really, how can I person go from having nothing they want to everything they need in such a short period of time. And I know just how she feels. I know because I feel it too. I know how unbelievably surreal and amazing that feeling is, because it's all I've felt since the night we kissed. Since the night I kissed her in the way I never believed she'd kiss me.

I only nod a reply, somewhat fazed by the way her tongue quickly draws over her red lips.

"What about me?" Smiling her words, I feel myself inching close towards her, doing it completely unconsciously. My body somehow just naturally attracted to hers. Along with my hand, as it instinctively slides away from me, wrapping around her waist, feeling her skin through a thin beater tank.

Fingers crawling lightly over her waist, I reply honestly "I was just wondering how you knew about Shaker Heights to move here."

There's a curious smile on her lips, maybe from my randomness, maybe not.

"You honestly want to know?"

I nod, slightly vehemently, curiosity getting the best of me.

"Ok..." She takes a deep breath, as if she were going to tell me the cure for world peace "...I looked at a map of Ohio, chose the first three cities that caught my eye, wrote them down on pieces of paper...and..." She bites her lip "...picked one out of a hat."

"Really?" Geekily asked with far too wide eyed excitement.

"Yup. A very advanced way of researching a place to live. I'm very sensible, you know."

She giggles, and I do too, nowhere near thinking about how insensible our current predicament is. How insensible our naked bodies inches from each other beneath this thick blanket truly is.

"Wow..." I whisper softly, eyes drifting to nowhere, ready to think out loud without even realizing it, "...so it's kind of like fate."

"What's that?" She asks with an all knowing little smirk, and it makes me unbelievably shy. So shy for speaking without thinking. For speaking not with my mouth, but with my heart.

So shy, my eyes slip between our bodies, as I quietly confess, "Us meeting...you know, you and me..." now it's my turn to bite my lip, "...it's like it were meant to be."

For an unknown reason, I suddenly feel very naked. And not just on the outside. Not just from the clothes my body seriously lacks. No I feel stripped inwardly. I feel like she can actually see my heart beating out of my chest. Her eyes seem to see every single thing I feel. And suddenly, it's like she's reading my body as if it were now my diary, instead of touching it like it were her own.

But as I chance a look at her, as I finally, bravely, lift my eyes from the safe darkness beneath our blanket, I feel any insecurity dissolve away. I feel myself not covered up, but wrapped up. Wrapped inside Ashleys loving, happy eyes. Wrapped inside Ashleys warmth.

Because she's looking at me as if I've said the sweetest thing she's ever heard. As if the measly confession I've barely muttered, were really the biggest loudest confession of love.

And it brings her hand to my cheek. It brings her fingers to trace over my cheekbone, down to my jaw, mindlessly doodling across the sensitive skin of my neck. Making me shiver. Shiver inside and out in this suddenly sweltering bed.

"Come 'ere."

She whispers in a way that isn't so much sweet, as it is hot. As it is demanding. I've never been more terrified of kissing her. Which is the silliest thing in the world, considering how often I've kissed her these past two nights. Considering all the places I've kissed her.

Considering I can still taste her in my mouth if I try hard enough.

"Come on..." She sweetly persists, continuing as if she were a child in the sand pit of the playground "...I wanna tell you a secret."

Never able to turn down that voice, I lean forward with ridiculous trepidation, and she moves me a long, gently guiding me with a hand slid through my hair. Hardly an inch between our lips, she nuzzles her nose with mine. She moans so softly against me and I can feel my stinted breaths skipping from my mouth into hers. Faces so close, fitting together as if we were a perfect puzzle made from two perfect pieces.

"You..." Her face moves agonizingly slow against mine, tilting at every angle, brushing every sensitive curve, while her lips act as ghosts, haunting my outside and touching me so far inside, "...are..." all I hear are our breaths pouring together, and if they were liquid I'm sure they'd make the most deliciously intoxicating cocktail, "...really..." suddenly she pulls away, not too far, but far enough for me to finally see her dark eyes and light smile. "...pretty."

Mouth turning into the most bashful and honest corners, she whispers her words, just like I whispered mine earlier. She speaks her confessions that aren't really confessions through nervous lips.

And all I feel are my cheeks on fire. All I feel is my mouth so dry, so unkissable. But actually, I've never felt more kissable. My tongue darting across my lips has never felt so tangible.

"Come 'ere."

This time, her eyes have nothing but direction in them. This time, she's not just ordering me, she's owning me. And this time, I'm not going to hesitate.

"I have another secret for you." Breathes from her needy lips before she pulls mine between them. Before she nips at my bottom one, already swollen and bruised and somehow never feeling better. Nails digging down my back, and I've never felt more alive.

Moaning inside my whimpers, she wraps her strong arm around my back, and pushes her leg between mine. I'm on my back again before I realize it, with her hands tangling my every nerve, fingers tying them with desperate grazes below my breasts and across my ribs. Within seconds she's sliding down my body, raising my t-shirt as she goes, meeting my bare breasts in the middle.

"Mine."

Puffs against my chest, before her lips claim what she's already claimed out loud. Her mouth takes what is hers. What's always been hers.

Her tongue sweeps over and over my burning skin, again and again. This feels so good. Too good to be real. She feels so good. She feels too real to be real. And even though we're not sleeping, it still feels like we're dreaming. We're still so far inside our dreams. We're living inside them. We're breathing and kissing and thrusting inside all our safe secret places.

And I wonder.

I wonder how long before we wake up.

----------------

Standing in my bra and jeans, I pretend to look for something to wear, because I'm honestly nowhere near this closet. I'm still trapped inside my morning memory. Instead of reaching for clothes, my fingers trace the bruises across my chest, reliving the way I received them.

I swear my heart can feel the marks Ashley kissed above it. The internal tattoos she's branded me with.

"Going somewhere?"

I nearly jump into the ceiling from fright, as Madison laughs lightly from my open door. As Madison laughs in a way that doesn't feel very funny.

"Um..." I quickly turn, hiding my hickey covered chest, looking for a shirt, ANY shirt to cover up with, "...yeah, I mean...no..." completely distracted inside my sea of old tees and guilty memories, I roughly throw on the first shirt I can grab.

"Well, which one is it?"

She sounds very pissed off. And I don't blame her. We haven't spoken since Saturday night. A.k.a, the night before I crossed a life changing line. The night my life went from innocent to guilty.

The night my life began.

Turning around, slowly, with rightful trepidation, I face her leaning-against-the-doorway-frame body. Arms crossed, in her classic unapologetic Madison pose.

Utterly lost, I naively utter, "Which one is what?"

"Are you going out or not." She doesn't even make it sound like a question, before she looks me over "...and your shirt's inside out."

My cheeks blaze with a feeling so far from the last time they blazed. Burning with the direct opposite feeling from the heated passion Ashley can only make me feel.

And now I'm blushing even more, threatening to self combust, cause now all I can think of is Ashleys heated passion.

"Oh right..." Laughing nervously, I quickly glance down at my extruding seams shirt, before I completely ignore it and move on "...I'm just going over Ashleys."

"Ashleys, huh?"

Oh. Shit.

Madisons mouth opens crookedly, teeth ready to claim her bottom lip between them. I swear she's one second from a quirked eyebrow. She's one second from pushing me where I really don't want to go.

She's one second from shaking me from my dreams. Ripping me awake.

"Yup."

I try and act cool, walking to my dresser fumbling with my earrings. Fumbling with anything to keep my hands busy, and my eyes occupied.

"Her cars been here a lot, has she..." For once Madison doesn't sound like she's owed every one of my deepest secrets, for once Madison sounds open and genuine "...has she been spending the night?"

I gulp the thickest "fuck" gulp of my life. How does she know Ashley was here? She wasn't even here. I was sure of it. So sure, she was over Jacks. So sure she was avoiding me and this apartment. I mean I had to be sure to have the sex I've been having. The wild, loud, unabashed fucking I've been doing.

And now, with her looking at me with not an ounce of bullshit, I'm not sure. I'm so far from sure and I only have one second to think of a lie and commit to it. One second before my silence screams infidelity.

"Yeah...I mean, just the past two nights. When Glen is away, she gets all kinds of freaked out. You know how big of a wuss that girl is."

I breathe out, wiping away a thin unbelievable sheen of sweat from my forehead. I'm fucking on fire inside this drafty room.

And then there's nothing. There's nothing but a moment of pure quietness. A shifting moment of silence. And I swear I can hear her letting it go. I swear I hear her sighing behind me, as if she were giving in.

"Yeah I do..." Sounding genuine and discouraged, she continues so soft, "...it's nice of you to be there for her..." Taking a deep breath, she pauses as if to debate something "...you know, she's lucky to have you Spence."

Her words are quiet and sincere, and they kind of make my heart ache. Because it feels like she doesn't need me to give her my secrets. It feels like she already knows them. And whether she really does or not, I almost feel relieved.

Because with those few simple words, she's made me feel ok.

"I guess."

Mumbles from my moved mouth, screams inside my aching heart, as I finally turn back around to face her. No longer afraid.

Finally apologetic.

"I'm sorry Mads."

She doesn't even blink an eye. She doesn't hesitate in warmly answering.

"I know."

I sigh.

"No, I was the biggest bitch to you the other night, when you were only being a good friend. My best friend. So really, I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too."

She didn't have to say it. Truthfully, she didn't have any reason to, but she did anyway. Because she knows I needed it. She knows it's her way of saying "you're forgiven."

"I'm always here for you Spencer. You can come to me whenever and where ever, if there's anything you need to talk about..." She finally walks inside my room, my tainted room "...you have to know that. Please know that, ok?"

I nod weakly, feeling so awful for lying to her. For lying to everyone.

For lying to myself for what feels like forever.

"I know."

She waits a beat, as if this room and this moment might be the time I come to her. I might just listen to her and tell her everything I need to talk about.

But it's not that time. It's not that moment. You and I both know that.

And so does she.

"Good." 

Relieves from her chest along with a long sigh, before she wraps me in a hug. Holding me as she morphs into full Madison mode.

"Now take off this dish rag, and put on that turtle neck sweater I like so much."

Releasing me from her bear hug, she smiles at me suggestively. Realistically. And I feel my insides burning with fear of being found out once more.

"I'm just going to Ashleys. Nothing worth getting dressed up for."

I somehow say this with a straight believable face.

But she's not believing it.

With an amused laugh, she rolls her eyes. "Sure, yeah, ok, whatever you say..." shrugging somewhat condescendingly, "...I just don't want you leaving the house looking like you don't have one to come back to."

I want to give her a witty comeback to her crafty remark, but words escape me. Sarcasm kind of loses it's appeal and point when the person you're hiding from sees through it. When that person sees everything below the lies.

When that person is your best friend. And in this very moment, you realize that best friend has you figured out. That best friend, leaving you to drown inside the caving walls of your room, knows everything.

And suddenly, my dreaming morning memory world doesn't feel so real.

Suddenly, reality feels so real.

Too real to be true.


	17. The Music Room

Another installation of MTV's _The Inferno_ plays before my eyes, and if it weren't for this thick quilt of guilt wrapped around my body, I'd probably wonder why Ashley and I still watch this mindless dribble every week. If I weren't bombarded with living room picture portraits full of Glens face between the frames, I'd probably lean closer to Ashley. Lean towards her in the way she's leaned towards me.

"Well that was nothing short of riveting. Let's review, shall we?..." Giggling with adorable excitement, she faces me, counting off her fingers "...Tanya's still a floozy. Robin's still a moron. And Paula still needs to eat a cheeseburger..." her laughter reaches for me "...actually make that five cheeseburgers."

But I don't reach back.

I merely smile a meek little pathetic smile. And she sees straight through it. She's piercing between my lips, and breaking apart my already crumbled cover up. 

The air becomes quiet. Too quiet for the intimacy we've shared. And she knows it.

"So..." Pushing gently, she's ready to gather all my broken pieces, knowing it's only a matter of time, "...where've you been all night, Spence?"

I fumble with my fingers, watching the way my bitten down nails blend into the surrounding skin.

"Nowhere."

She sighs.

"Yeah?..." My vagueness doesn't deter her at all, not one bit as she continues pushing, sounding so safe and so comforting, "...where's nowhere?"

Not able to help it, I give into her warmth. I give into her reassurance, knowing it's completely pointless trying not to. Mustering up a small but real smile, I lie.

"I'm here..." tentatively, I thread our fingers, still not used to being the forward one "...I'm right here."

She nods her head gently, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. There's nothing but disbelief between us.

"Good."

"Yeah."

Our airy replies float above us. We're not fooling anyone, especially ourselves. We both know more than we'd like to that I'm definitely not here, and everything about this situation is anything but good.

And I need a break from it. From the this rich room and expensive couch. From these walls covered in my brothers eyes, watching me sitting so close to his wife.

"I'm just gonna use the bathroom. I'll be right back."

So tired, mentally and physically, I lift myself from the couch. A shake taking residence in my bones, and I don't know if it's from my exhaustion or my fear over something I still can't put my finger on. Regardless, I stay still for a moment. Shaking in my fear, I remain in front of the couch, before I finally walk towards the hall. Before I finally walk away from her. Feeling like it's for the last time. And I think she feels it too. I think she hears goodbye in my footsteps.

I think I feel her heart sinking. Tying slippery hands with mine.

"Third door on the right."

She lamely, but adorably, jokes from behind me, and it breaks my heart. Because I know what she's doing. I know she's reaching for our yesterday dreams. Reaching so far. Stretching towards our safe places. Stretching so hard. And as I laugh in a way that's more like a weight of the world sigh, I realize it's too late for reaching. Too late for returning to our bubble gum world.

That world's gone. At some point, that world popped like a balloon blown too tight.

I almost want to cry as I pad along the hardwood floors of this long hallway, feeling the boards creak beneath my bare feet. With each burdened step. And suddenly it's no wonder Ashley calls me in the middle of the night. It's no wonder Ashley is so afraid to be so alone inside this haunted house.

It's no wonder I hate my brother more than anything for leaving her inside it.

Before I make it to the bathroom, I stop at the second door on the left. I can't help myself. I need to go inside, I need to revisit this place. Checking back towards the light of the living room, for really no reason at all, but feeling like I should. Feeling like I should make sure she's not watching as I step inside her personal place. Her private sanctuary.

The lights are so bright in here. Too bright. They show off every spec of dust. Show it too easily. They shine on every instrument that hasn't been played in a long time. Too long. They point and laugh at every CD gone untouched.

They fill my eyes with hard tears. Tears for what was and what's not anymore. Tears for the dust. Tears for this room.

Biting back those in-the-past tears, I try and forget.

But it only makes me remember more.

-----------

__

Standing by myself in the middle of this unpacked room, I hear my mother roar with laughter three doors down. I hear it bellowing and echoing from Ashley and Glens hollow kitchen. Rolling straight down the hall, right into my hurting ears. Finding me, hiding from her. Hiding from it all.

Ashley and Glen just moved in here a few weeks ago. A few weeks ago, and boxes still litter every room. A month ago and the bare walls still shine brighter than the sun.

I guess neither were ready to call this place home.

I sigh as I hear someone compliment Ashley on her and Glens beautiful new home.

I guess I'm not ready either.

I guess I'm not ready for any of this.

"Hiding are we?"

Eyes still facing straight ahead, I don't even bother turning to show her my small smile as I answer, "You know it better than anyone."

She doesn't really laugh as she giggles, and it makes her voice so soft as she says, "That I do."

I sigh again, for all the obvious reasons that I fear I'll never get over, as she comes to stand beside me. "Sorry I'm not hanging in the kitchen with the rest of them, but you know all that floral arrangement and dinner menu talk is just not my scene."

And it's the truth, it's never interested me, even when I'm not stewing with jealousy and pain over the wedding. Even when I'm not seriously wrongly interested in the bride.

"Hey, you're the maid of honor..." She nudges me softly with her shoulder "...didn't you know you have the one and only get-out-of-wedding-talk free card."

"Oh see I thought it was the get-out-of-dancing-at-the-reception free card." 

"Sorry..." Puffs from her lips with a shrug, "..No such luck. You and your dangerous moves are just gonna have to try and harmoniously coincide with my smooth ones out on that dance floor."

Lightly leaning into her side, I chuckle. Somehow I manage to genuinely laugh despite the pain of the situation. Despite the depressed and bruised muscle thumping inside my chest.

"So..." She finally walks further into the room, away from me, looking around at all the shelves "...pretty cool, huh?"

She's of course talking about the music room I spent all weekend working on, while she was visiting friends in Cleveland. The music room that was going to be Glens trophy showcase room. The music room I insisted he make for her.

The music room I ended up begging him for.

The first and last time that will ever happen.

"Yeah." I nod my head, looking around with her, as if I've never seen it before. As if I didn't muck up a pair of jeans and three irreplaceable thrift shop tees by painting these red red walls. "...it really is."

"I still can't believe Glen did this."

She's looking straight at me now, curiously, and I play dumb. Because I, of course, made sure Glen would never tell her it was my idea. I made sure Ashley would never know I slept maybe two hours the past three days, working so hard painting trims, hammering in shelves, and alphabetizing albums.

"I know. He actually did something nice for once." With a shrug I turn from her, hoping she didn't catch the smile creeping over my lips from my growing pride. My escalating excitement. I'm not sure why I don't want her to know it's me. I don't know why I can't let her know how much it means to me that she likes it.

"No, Spence..." She draws the words out slowly, and I can hear the smirk on her face "...I literally don't believe he could pull this off. He had to have had some form of help." I don't know if she really knows. I don't know, but I don't care, because as I turn around, as I find her goofy smile and light eyes, I know she loves this room. And that's all that matters. It doesn't matter who gave her this room. Whose idea this room was.

This room with it's rich wood floors, and black grand piano. This room covered in CDs and cassettes. This room inhabiting the love of her life; an acoustic six string Taylor. Or her love on the side; a bright red electric Fender.

It doesn't matter, because it makes her happy. And if she lives the rest of her life believing Glen, her fiance, her soon to be husband, did it for her. Then I'm happy too.

Even if Glen wanted to paint this room dark blue.

Even if he still doesn't know her favorite color is red.

"So I quit the coffee house."

If I were drinking something, I would have spit it out.

"You what? Why??..." I pull back some of my surprise, and replace it with composure "...I mean, that's cool and all, but...you loved that job."

She smiles, appreciatively, maybe even loving the fact that I know her so well.

"Yeah..." She nods to the ground, somewhat whimsically "...Yeah I did. But, you know, I'm twenty six years old, almost twenty seven...what am I gonna do, pour coffee for the rest of my life? Besides..." she shrugs, and I immediately don't like where it's going "...Glen doesn't need me to have that silly job. He can support me, support us. And now I have all this..." Her eyes roam over this room full of her dreams and passions, "...I can start doing what I've always wanted to do."

I can only nod. I can only think with trepidation. Because while it makes sense, and it all sounds like she means it. There's something about it that doesn't feel right. There's something that feels like a stranger inside her words.

There's too much Glen in there.

And it's not sitting well with me. At all.

"Ash-"

"It's weird..." As if she knows where I was going, she cuts me off "...all this stuff is just like, starting up, you know?.." Leaning with what might be her uncertainty, she rests back against the piano, looking down into the center of the room, "...this house, this wedding, it's like I have this new life that's just beginning."

A sigh flits past her lips, and I'm not sure if she's talking to me or if she's really talking to herself.

"...it's beginning, I know it's already began, but..." She bites her lip and looks at me "...I don't know, I still feel like I'm waiting. I'm just sitting here waiting..." Blushing and somewhat timid, she walks towards a shelf, barely breathing her words "...for a different beginning to another life."

I don't know to say to that. All I know is I have to say something. All I know is that is not a statement to be left out in the open, to be left in the cold. But before I can stumble and stutter some incoherent mumble, she beats me to it.

"But this place...this room..." Her fingers rest on a shelf "...this feels right. This is the beginning. This is the home I've always waited for. You know?" She turns back to me, looking like the strangest mix of melancholy and joy "...this is where my life starts."

She finishes with a true smile, and I can't help but return it. I can't help but feel the pride of giving her this life. Feel the pride over ride the anger with my brother for almost taking it from her.

We hold our smiles and eyes like always, never letting a moment go without some meaning, before she looks back in front of her. Looking over a sea of Cassette Tapes.

"Bet these confused you, huh?"

Laughing her words, she grazes her fingers over every case, and I can't help but giggle too. I can't help but nod my head because they did confuse me. They actually baffled me. In a world of blank CD's and iPods, who still used cassette tapes?

"Yeah, I thought they stopped making those years ago. Only a grandma like you would keep 'em around."

I chuckle warmly, and she laughs with me, nowhere near surprised by my joke. Nowhere near offended, because she knew it's one I'd make.

She always knows.

"Well, little girl..." Throwing on her best crippling and cracking old timers voice, she waves me over "...if you come over here, I'll give you a golden piece of this granny's music mind."

Dribbling with laughter, I don't waste a second to stand by her. To smile by her side, while I look out before me, right where she's looking. Seeing what she sees. Wanting to see through her eyes, because I know she's about to tell me me something incredibly insightful. She's about to give me another sacred piece of her life.

And once again, it's something I'll hold onto for the rest of mine.

"A lot people collect LP's you know? Records. Vinyl. Because it's..." she air quotes "...'classic'. And I don't disagree, not one bit. There's something truly nostalgic about an old '45. There's something in the way a needle drops onto a turn table, scratching and cracking the music into life. Going from static to moving instantly. You just can't get that something from a CD."

"I'll take your word for it." I smile, nodding once, quirking an eye her way, because she knows she's always been the music one. She knows the only music I know is the music she shows me. With a thoughtful smile, her head tilts to the side, towards me, eyes glazing over the cassettes as if they were a photo album.

"Yeah well...cassette tapes? These are my records. These are my nostalgia. People of our generation forget so easily. They forget the mix tapes we used to make. Back in the eighties and early nineties...these things..." fingers trace over the outsides, singling out one in particular, "...these were our mp3 players. These were our gifts no one else could give..." slowly and softly, she pulls out one cassette from a row of them "...these were our love letters."

Her voice is so warm, so sincere, I have to believe she's speaking from a place of knowledge. I have to believe she's written a few mix tapes in her past.

"You know, growing up, starting when I was like...I don't know, five or six...My mom and I would make a mix tape together once a year. All the songs we loved. All the songs that made us remember. Granted, I was still kind of young to have any memories that meant anything, but my mom still included me..." Her voice becomes soft "...mom remembered. She remembered for me."

My eyes glaze down to where she fiddles with a tape, rotating it over and over between her palms.

"Pretty soon, I started making my own. I started recording my own memories with my own favorite songs. I did it every year..and I've never stopped." Taking a deep breath, she stills the tape in her hands, finally turning her somewhat watery eyes on mine. Seeing a somewhat blurry vision of her through my somewhat watery eyes.

Everything went from lighthearted to intense in a single instant. And we're both feeling it as she gently reaches for my hand, holding it open inside one of hers. Drawing another breath, she places her tape inside it, folding my fingers around it. Protecting it. Keeping it safe as if it were the lock to a childhood bike.

"Here."

My eyes widen, utterly moved, and eternally grateful for a priceless gift I could never keep.

"Ash, I can't take-"

"Please, Spence, take it. Keep it..." She nods once in a punctuating way, ending any chance of me giving back her gift. "I want you to have my 2005..." I can hear her breaths stuttering as they shake from her unsturdy lips, "...I want you to have my hardest year..." Her hands squeeze over mine "...because you're what got me through it. You're what saved me from it."

A smile graces her lips, showing me that this is actually a good thing instead of a sad thing, and I don't hesitate in smiling back. I don't hold back the graciousness I feel inside her gesture. Making sure my eyes look straight into her, I muster all the strength I have in me to say two words stronger than I've ever said anything.

"Thank you."

"No..." The left corner of her mouth turns up "...thank you."

I can't stop myself from rolling my eyes, from sighing, because she always does this. She always deflects my gratitude. And this time I need her to take it. I need her to hold my sincerity and feel it. Really feel it. "Ash, I'm being serious, you don't' know what this means-"

"I'm not talking about the tape, Spence."

Huh?

My eyes squint in confusion, my lips pinch in baffledness, and she smiles even more because of it.

"I'm thanking you for this comfort. I'm thanking you for giving me one of the only things to feel right inside my new life."

I'm still somewhat lost as her lips turn knowingly.

"Oh, come on, Spence. You think I actually believe Glen did all this?..." Arms lightly lift to either side, displaying her new life room "...Because I don't. There's only one person who knows me well enough to do all this and I believe I know exactly who she is."

Before I can say anything, anything at all, whether to deny her truthful accusations, or to accept them and take full credit for my gift, she's walking away. She's walking away with the warmest smile on her face.

"I know you hate it out there, but I'm begging you to please come back. Do it for me, please? Because I'm like fresh meat amongst a pack of wolves, and your mom is pretty much the hungriest one of the bunch."

She giggles suggestively, with a tinge of something I can't read, before she walks out into the hall.

Leaving me inside the life I've made for her.  


-----------

Through blurry and wet eyes, I wipe my nose with the back of my hand. I'm not sure what I'm crying over more. The dust covering the room her life was supposed to start in, or the dust bleeding from my crumbling heart. Bleeding from the life I was supposed to start.

From the life that was supposed to be so much more than the one I'm living now.

More tears rush from my eyes with that thought. More tears drown me. Hold me down inside the swirling sea of 'what if's' and 'what could of beens'. I'm reaching and grabbing onto slippery walls to pull me out of them. Out of this life. This life where I've done so little right, and so much wrong.

I hiccup, and suddenly the sound is muted and swallowed. Taken straight from me as a familiar mouth that'll never become too familiar softly blankets my quivering lips. Steadying them between hers. Keeping them warm and safe.

And only making them shake harder. Only making me crumble more.

She breaks away before I'm ready, causing my forehead to fall forward, softly resting with hers. Hands cupping my cheeks, she wipes the thick tears away like I'm so inconsolable that I'm incapable of doing it myself.

And the pathetic thing is she's right. I am that incapable. And I'm more inconsolable than I've ever been.

I hear her release a lungful of air between her moist lips, and while she'd normally ask what's wrong, while I'd hold my breath waiting for it, I know it's not going to come. I know this is not a normal moment. We haven't had a single normal moment these past two days. But then again, we've never really had a normal moment. Ever. For the past two years, we've been anything but normal, and I'm not holding back anymore. I'm breathing shallow and stuttered, keeping my eyes on the ground between us, tears spilling down to the pretty hard wood floor.

"This is it, isn't it?"

Her voice, solemn and defeated, pulls my eyes from the floor. Pushes my face back. Back and away so I can see hers. So I can see if she means what I think she means. What I hope she doesn't mean.

But her eyes reflect mine. Her breaths stilt in time with mine. And the meaning written across her face is everything I think it is.

Because her meaning is the same as mine.

"I don't want it to be..." Squeaked from my blubbering lips, suddenly out of breath. Suddenly without a voice. And as tears now flow from her eyes, I have to do something. I have to take her hand in mine.

"...But _this_..." gently, poignantly, I direct our joined hands between us "...isn't how..." hands now placed on the others chest, above our respective hearts, I whisper through a swallowed sob "..._this_ should be."

Her lips are quivering now, shaking so hard, like an earthquake, and I'm just waiting for when she completely breaks. For when she cracks from the inside out. Taking me with her.

Eyes filling with the tears she's held back for so long. With my identical tears, she looks down on those same rich floorboards I was just looking at. Those same floorboards I gave her so long ago.

"I know." She whispers, down into the dark wood, instead of into my breaking heart.

"It's only been two days, Ash, two days and I already feel like I'm suffocating..." Dark eyes shoot through mine with those wrongly interpreted words, words that bit too hard, words I never wanted or meant to "...Oh no, no, I didn't..." Through overwhelming tears I try to articulate myself "...I didn't mean it like that...I didn't...it's just..." I take a deep deep breath, winding myself up for a knock out.

"...He's my brother."

And there it is. The word I've been fearing. The word I've ran from. The word that has stopped her from running. Grabbing her by the shirt collar, and snapping her back into reality.

"He's my brother, Ash, he's my brother, you're his wife, and I'm sleeping with you..." My eyes close with new fresh tears brewing from the fresh confessions I'm about to make "...I'm sleeping with you and as if that weren't bad enough, as if sleeping with my brothers wife weren't going to hell worthy...I'm...I'm..." Stuttering over the truth, fumbling around with the honest words, the words that have never left my lips. "...I'm in love with her."

I hear Ashley gasp lightly, and it's not out surprise from my confession. No, it's out of relief, for finally hearing it.

And I can't stop talking. I can't stop the words pouring straight from my heart. Like a roller coaster dipping over a tall edge, I'm in motion. I'm in speeding unbreakable motion, and even her arms trying to wrap around me, can't stop it.

They can't stop me from backing away. 

I need her to see my face as I say everything she's deserved to hear for so long.

I need to see her face as I say the words I've kept from myself for too long.

"I've always known it. I've always felt it. But God, these past two days. These days of having you, of feeling you, of kissing you, it's just..." I can't even put into words what it's done, what it's felt like, so I back pedal over my tripping toes "...I just..I'm just so in love with you, Ash. So, so much. So much it hurts..." Nodding my head, my trembling voice becomes a whisper into the quietest air I've ever heard, "...because I...I can't be with you. Not like this."

And, somehow, the air stills even more. The air silences more than before. Because it's the silence of inevitability.

"...I just can't. I can't do it to my brother. But mostly, I can't do it to you. I can't do it to us. Because it's only been two days, Ash, two days and I already feel how tainted we're becoming. This pure and beautiful thing we have, what we've uncovered, it's becoming wrong. It's becoming the direct opposite of what it should be. What it always should have been. If only..if only I wasn't so..." Coming to a complete stop, my voice slides away from me. I can't go there, not now, not yet, I can't realize who's to blame for our predicament. 

The room is so silent from my confessions. Not because Ashley doesn't know what to say. Not because she's been stunned into silence. But because Ashley knows there's more. She knows I'm still in motion.

"...I'm dying inside, Ash. It's killing me because I can't imagine going on like this. I can't imagine Glen coming home tomorrow, and still...still sneaking around with you like this."

I hear her sigh, troubled and knowingly. I hear her heart breaking in agreement with mine.

"...but then...then I think about not being able to hold you anymore..." Whimpered like a wounded puppy, I keep sputtering and stuttering "...or...or not kissing you, or sleeping beside you..." The tears are back in full force, mirroring the ones spilling from her eyes "...and I literally can't breathe."

We both stand there, practically breathless from my honest rant. From my biting confessions. From my blazing tornado of words.

Leaving us motionless, inside it's wake.

"I know."

Until her words slice into the thick air. Until her words send me back into motion. Lips fumble for the words. And like a little girl so far and so lost from her home, I try to talk through that stifling air.

"What are we going to do?"

She remains before me, just a few feet away. For a moment, she looks around this room. This room full of her dust covered dreams, before her safe and direct eyes spear into mine.

"We figure it out." So simply stated she strides to me, holding my neck strongly between her shaking hands, lowering her mouth to mine, whispering inside it "...because I'm so in love with you too, Spence..." our trembling lips tremble together "...and you can breathe. You can breath because I won't let you suffocate."

My eyes are so red and swollen and watery, I can barely look at her. I can barely see her as my resolve slips. As my hopes rise and rise despite my feeble attempts at pulling them back down to the ground. 

And I can barely croak out the one word I need to ask more than anything.

"How?"

One word smothered in child-like desperation and she sees my need, my unbelievable need for her to make this better. For her to make this right. She sees my need to breathe. And with eyes never leaving my eyes, with thumbs rolling over my chin. With her forehead leaning against mine, I know she's opening her mouth to give me breath. 

She's releasing the weight.

"We tell Glen."

But the air only feels more heavy.


	18. PB&J Giveaway

We had sex right there on the hard wood floor of the music room. Stripped and tangled for the last time. One more time before it falls away from us. Before it breaks. Before we tell Glen. Before we possibly break.

Fast and hard. Soft and slow. Standing, sitting, lying down. Everywhere and nowhere all at once. Minutes that felt like precious hours. Minutes that felt like time standing still.

Like time stopped completely.

And as Ashley kissed between my thighs, languid and loving with my hands buried in her hair. As my back bucked and bucked up off that painful floor, feeling more alive than ever, I briefly wondered if time would ever begin again.

I silently prayed it wouldn't.

Falling back against my apartment door, I sigh.

But the end came eventually, as it always does and always will. The end washed over us, just when we needed it but long before we ever wanted to see it. The clock picked up again, striking time into action once more. Striking it into double time. Minutes suddenly felt like seconds. Time suddenly passed too soon.

Cause I'm already home, and I'm already more alone than before. More alone than I can even remember.

It was hard to leave her. I can't lie about how hard it was to not stay there. To not spend the night between those soft arms. Those safe small arms. I can't lie and say a river wasn't born outside her house. A river made of my tears, wetting a flooding trail to my car in her driveway. Following me all the way home to mine.

It was that hard, even harder. Because I can still feel those river tears sticking to my cheeks. Because I can still feel Ashley's slick body all over mine. Because maybe time did stop with her between my legs, sweaty and threaded.

Maybe those people, those girls hopelessly tied together, maybe they're frozen in time now. Maybe they're stuck there, in some alternate world where they can be together. Where they can just be. While I'm stuck inside this cruel world, locked inside my self made prison. Because no matter how much we both want this. No matter what hard plans we've made to break away and come clean. I already feel like I've lost her.

Trudging to the fridge in this dark dark kitchen, instinctively knowing my way.

I only taste goodbye in these lazy tears cascading into my mouth, mixing with hers. Mixing with a taste that is only Ashley. And this salt salivating my mouth has never tasted so bittersweet. Has never tasted so damn final. 

The refrigerator door shines a vacant ray of light straight against me and through me to the rest of the kitchen. Painting this entire scene in my lonely and isolated desperation. My desolation.

The Jelly finds its way into my hands blindly, no need to even look. This is routine, this is mechanic, and I continue along the same engraved path inside my feet's memory. Right for the cabinets above the toaster. Reaching for the bread, and reaching for the peanut butter.

Reaching for my comfort.

Jelly from the jar sticks to my fingers as I twist off its cap. One of my biggest pet peeves. Usually. But tonight it's not so bad. Tonight feeling jelly on my fingers is comforting. Tonight, feeling my jelly and knowing it lingers is really all I have.

"Uh oh..."

I flinch just slightly, not too alarmed. Somehow, I expected it. Somehow, I knew Madison would be waiting up. Or maybe I just needed her to. Maybe I just needed someone to be waiting for me. To fill my loneliness with love.

Glancing over my shoulder, I find her in the doorway, leaning on the wall in her sweats and a T-shirt. The most low key I've ever seen her.

And it makes me feel safe.

"Hey."

"Don't hey me, Missy, something's up..." Soft and warm, she sleepily trails her way into the kitchen, "...peanut butter and jelly at..." a sideways glance towards the microwave "...one am is never a good sign."

A puff of air leaves my lips, and if she were trying to be funny it could have been taken as a laugh. But she wasn't trying to be funny. And I sure as hell wasn't trying to laugh.

I do this a lot. Ashley and Spencer sandwiches. They're my chick flicks after a break up. They're my Jack and diets on a hard night. They're my coffee on a slow morning. They're my Valium on a bumpy flight.

They're my everything.

And I guess Madison knows this. I guess Madison knows so much more than I've ever believed. Than I've ever known.

Than I've ever given her credit for.

"Yeah..." Trailing off, not committing to her concern one bit, I focus on the task at hand. Spreading the thick butter like a pro, never rushing, never crumbling the delicate bread beneath.

I hear her sigh from behind me, plopping herself down at the kitchen table, while hitting the light switch on the wall "...so what's going on?"

"Nothing." Whispers from my pouting frown. Feeling the walls closing in. Feeling Madison zeroing in.

Aiming straight for me. 

"Spence..." There's that deep breath, there's that wind up for a grand slam, the pull back for a hole in one "...What happened tonight? I mean..." It's so close I swear I hear her already swinging "...What happened with Ashley?"

There's me floored. There's me with my mouth wide open as if I've just had the wind knocked right out of me. And in a way I have, in a way Madison just took it from me with those simple straight forward words. Yup, she just shot me down. Right on the bulls eye. My bullseye. And I'm not saying anything. I'm absolutely silent, letting my breaths trickle out from my throat.

"Come on Spence. I know whatever is going on with you, whatever this is all about, it's about her, don't even try and deny it, because aside from the fact you're home right now instead of sleeping over at hers..." She pauses, and I'm so afraid to turn around, I'm so afraid to move, because I just know, there's no turning back tonight. I know this is it, right now, inside this too bright kitchen, things are unraveling, "...Nothing gets past me, Hun, I know everything. And when you're making one of those, when you're making a random Peanut Butter and Jelly, I know something's going on with your girl."

My girl. She just referred to her as my girl. All I want to do is smile over the title. But a larger fear weighs me down. A larger fear over how right she is. And how I hate it. God, I hate that she's always right. I hate that she knows so much about me. I hate that she knows me better than I know myself. And I hate that I'm still not moving. I hate that I'm still not saying a word. Instead, I'm letting my silence do all the talking. Letting her know she's right. Silently shouting at her that's she's right on the fucking money.

And as I hear her inhale one deep kitchen breath, I know she knows. I know she knows she's right. She knows she's hitting me, hitting me right in my most sensitive spot. She's poking and pulling at the pink bubble gum measly covering up my leaky overflowing pipes.

"How long, Spence?"

I feel myself closing in and opening up all at once. I feel myself stuck in the strangest world of release and suffocation. Of relief and burden. And I don't even know if I have a voice as I stutter "What?"

More terrified then ever.

"How long..." Her voice sounds so close all of a sudden, so freaking loud, even though I know she's barely whispering "...how long have you been in love with Ashley?"

Like that, like the light switch she so easily flicked on, I'm crying. Quiet, quick tears. There really is no going back now. Because she said it. She spoke the truth, and I can't lie to her. I can hide, but I can't lie.

"I...Mads...we..." But I can't keep talking. Words escape me. Words are a distant stranger. Because I'm a baby right now. I'm as inarticulate as a newborn. The only sound disappearing from my lips are my sharp intakes of breath. Suddenly feeling breathless. Suddenly feeling incapable of speaking. Only capable of crying.

And once again, Madison knows. "Oh sweetie, it's ok..." I don't even realize I'm wrapped in her arms until I feel my own hands clinging to her t-shirt "...shhh, it's ok, it's ok."

She repeats it over and over. It's her mantra. It's her comfort cooing. And while I don't believe a word of it. While I know there's no way anything could possibly be ok in this situation, it somehow makes me feel better. It somehow lifts the weight pushing down on my lungs.

It allows me to breathe again. Deep long breaths as if I've been held under water. As if I've been drowning for longer than any person should go without air.

"Come on..." she leads me to the living room couch, her hand holding mine like the safest leash, making sure I don't lose my way. Practically sitting me down, she smiles warmly, lighting me up inside "...wait here, I'll be right back."

I'm still too lost to say anything. I'm still too shocked to realize this is really happening. I'm still so out of it, I don't even notice her sitting beside me, once more. My sandwich placed in my lap and an ice cold drink [one needed Jack and Diet pushed inside my hand.

"I thought you could use these."

Madison's voice pulls me out of my trance. Bringing those tears cascading down my cheeks back to life. Making me feel everything again. But there's something else inside me. There's something else forming on my face. Those same salty cheeks are actually dimpling. Pushing a small stranger of a smile on my face. And I can't believe it.

I can't believe there's actually little drops of relief raining down on me. Covering me. Coating me. And it shows. It shows as sincerity drips off every ounce of my voice from my whispered "Thank you."

Taking a sip of her own drink [a typical Madison Cape Codder, she smiles again. She smiles as if I'm not the worst person in the world. As if my non-confessional confession weren't a first class ticket to Hell.

No, she seems like she's actually happy. She seems like she's on my side, and not just because she's my best friend. Not out of loyalty but out of choice. And I can't help but feel one sliver of happiness because of it.

"I mean it Spence..." her fingers lightly wrap around my wrist, making me realizing mine are gripping the plate sitting in my lap. The flimsy paper plate full of my comfort and full of my two year baggage, "...it really is ok."

I gulp, knowing exactly what she's referring to, and knowing I'm not quite ready to fully believe her. "How..." my eyes shift nervously towards hers, so afraid "...how can you say that?"

"Because I can."

A small strangled jolt of laughter leaves my throat, unable to sustain it from her bluntness. From her no bullshitting.

"No, really, Madison, this is not ok. It's..." I shake my head, still not ready, still not brave enough to actually say it "...it's just not."

"Spencer..." She sighs, as if she were just realizing or finally remembering that this is not going to be as easy as she had once thought. "...do you love her?"

And I sigh too, because I realize this is how this conversation is going to go. It's how it has to go. It has to be her pulling from me. It has to be her fishing for my truths. Because once again, I could have hidden, but I could never lie. And I'd never ever want to when it comes to a question like that.

"You know I do." Without hesitation, I whisper my painfully honest answer, looking straight down on my PB&J.

"You're right, I do know. And I've known since the first day I met her, since that miserable night at O'Neill's, that Ashley loves you too. That Ashley is so freaking in love with you it's kind of heartbreaking."

Tears spill over my eyelids. Tears for how right she is. Tears for how heartbreakingly right those words are.

"The way I see it, the love you two have, that connection..." Her hand tugs my wrist, forcing my eyes to look into hers, forcing my eyes to face her truths "...there's no way there could be anything not ok with that. What you two have is beyond ok. What you two have is incredible, Spence. It really is."

"Madison..." I shake my head, eyes closing with more harsh tears, not willing to accept anything she's saying, not ready to hear my hopes and dreams said out loud as if they were truth and reality "...you can't say that. I mean, what about Glen-"

"Fuck, Glen."

I don't laugh this time from her blatant honesty. I only cry. I only shed years worth of tears. Shedding myself of so much burden.

"Fuck, Glen. Ok? He may be your brother, he may be married to Ashley. But he doesn't love her. She doesn't love him. And you know some thing Spencer, I really hate saying this, but I have to because it's so god damn true..." One deep breath "...your brother could be the biggest asshole I've ever met. Ever. You do know he's cheating on her, I mean you _have_ to know that."

My head swivels like a lazy Susan on speed, "He is?"

And her eyes roll like ferris wheels "Spencer, Please. I know you're not that oblivious."

She's right. I'm not that oblivious. I've seen the way he looks at other girls. I've seen the way he whispers in their ears when he thinks no one's watching. The way he touches even when someone could be watching.

I've just never brought myself to really accept it. Because then I'd have to accept everything that could possibly come from it.

"Ashley's not that oblivious either. I know she's not. I just don't understand why she's married to him. I don't understand why she married him in the first place. It was so obvious how in love with you she was. Jack and I have known about it since day one."

This almost makes me want to smile, for the idea of Ashley loving me. But this knowledge only makes me want to vomit more. Vomit for my past mistakes. For Glen's infidelity. For Ashley marrying him in the first place. And for not understanding why either.

For feeling so lost.

For finally fully realizing that Madison now knows.

Madison finally knows everything she already knew all along.

"God this is so messed up..." I shrug hopelessly, "...I've messed this up so bad. It could have been so different if I wasn't so afraid. If I wasn't so..." Beyond frustrated, my voice putters out once more, allowing my crying eyes to take center stage.

"Stop, Spencer. Stop stop stop." She shakes her head, setting down her drink "...it's never too late. Ok? I get it. I do. Yeah, you were an idiot. And I pretty much wanted to smack you sometimes. But I love you anyway. No matter what. Because you're human, Spence. We've all made our mistakes, ok? But we learn form them. It's in the past. It's over and done with. You can't change it, and you'll kill yourself if you continue to beat yourself up wishing you could."

"Madis-"

"Uh uh" One silencing palm held out, she means business "...you are going to let it go, ok? You are not going to utter another word about how you could have done that or how you've messed up this. I will not hear anymore of it. Because if you keep doing that, Spence, then you're just ruining now. You're just creating more mistakes for your past. More things to dwell on years from now. You read me?"

And I do. Sniffling, and blinking my damp eyes, I finally understand what she's getting at. And she's right.

"We're going to tell him." I softly confess, feeling like it should make this all better. Feeling like I need to tell her, as if it makes me a better person.

"Damn right you will."

Man, she's tough. She goes right for broke. And I love her for it. I realize just how lucky I am to have her. I finally understand how much I need her.

And I've never given her more credit than I do now.

"And just so you know..." I still won't look at her, feeling too vulnerable to put myself all the way out there "...it hasn't been...I mean we've only been..." I cough, unbelievably uncomfortable with discussing sex "...you know, it's only been recently. For like the past few days."

Catching my drift, she laughs. Full fledged belly laughter that baffles me.

"Yeah. Ok, Spence."

"No, Madison, we really have. It only just happened." I need her to believe me. And I'm not even sure why. Because she obviously doesn't care.

But I care. I care about these past three days more than I've ever cared about anything. And that's why I need her to believe me.

"Spence, it doesn't matter when you physically started sleeping together. You've been mentally intimate for pretty much the past two years. And let's face it, that's just as intense as sex. That's even more intense."

Once again, she's right. Once again she's hitting the bullseye and winning the jackpot.

And I'm just nodding my head, softly agreeing with her.

"Speaking of which..." Her voice drastically goes from serious to sneaky, and I feel myself blushing for already knowing where she's going with this "...the sex must have been fucking mind blowing. I mean with the kind of build up you two had going, you've basically been foreplaying for two years. Seriously, Spence, how fucking amazing was it?"

Oh, God.

Somehow she's effortlessly dropped the intensity, only to replace it with my unbelievable embarrassment. My unbelievable shyness. I've never not talked about sex. I've never blushed an inferno with Madison.

Because it's never meant something until now. It's never meant so much that I've never wanted to share it. I've never wanted to selfishly keep something to myself as much as I do now.

And as I gulp down my drink [the strongest Jack and Diet known to man Madison knows it.

"Oh there's no way you're muting up on this one, babe. I've been waiting to hear these details for forever. Now, spill it."

I finish off my too late cocktail, somehow already feeling it, and knowing a long night rests ahead. Knowing there's going to be no sleep for me tonight. Turning towards her, with an actual smile, I finally accept it all. I finally accept what's transpired. I've finally accepted Madison's truths.

But really, I've finally started accepting my own.

And it both kills me and relieves me to admit it feels good. It feels so damn good, that I can't stop myself from smirking between what feels like new lips.

"I think you better make me another drink if you want me to spill anything."

---------

It's sometime after three and I'm only just shuffling inside my room. One long conversation with Madison about everything and anything Ashley, I'm feeling tipsy. Five lightly shaded Jack and Diets later, and I'm collapsing onto my bed. Snuggling my face deep into the left side pillow. Inhaling the intoxicating mixture of Ashleys shampoo and perfume. Smelling it and missing her.

Needing her.

And before I know it I'm reaching for my phone. Drunkenly dialing the numbers that'll never leave my mind's memory. The numbers I could reach for and find in the darkest room with the most inebriated fingers.

She picks up on the first ring.

"Spence?"

"Hey." I whisper, quietly, sincerely.

"Are you ok? I mean, is everything alright?"

I take a minute, mulling over the idea of telling her all that happened tonight. Contemplating confessing to the confessions I've made to Madison.

"Yeah, yeah..." Breathing a sigh of relief, I don't go there. Not tonight. Not when I just want her. "...I just wanted to hear your voice."

"Oh, yeah?"

She chuckles, knowingly. She chuckles, hearing the drinks in my voice. But she doesn't say anything about it. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I think she's enjoying my honesty. My laid back, unfiltered, honesty.

"Yeah." I breathe into the phone, rolling to my side, her side, fingers playing over her pillow "...that and I just wanted to make sure you, you know, checked for spiders and feathers before you went to bed. Well, checked for feathers mostly, because those can really sneak up on you."

Her giggling on the other end warms my heart more than anything I've ever heard. It tugs my lips into a lazy smile. And as her laughter dies down, I close my eyes. Feeling like she's right beside me.

"Spence?"

"Yeah." Whispered in a light voice, like a child, I hear her smile through the phone. I hear her final words before sleep tugs at me.

"I miss you too."


	19. Will Nots

Slumped and sullen on the couch, I scan, hopelessly, through every channel. Seven hundred of them and there's nothing. A world of entertainment between my lazy hands, and I can't find one thing to watch. I'm just so antsy for something fun to do and even more picky about whatever that something is.

And that is never a working combination for promising results.

This is supposed to be a relaxing Thursday night. The paper's been put to bed. There are no events for me to photograph tomorrow morning. I get to stay up late and sleep in even later. But it's only 8 p.m. and I already want to go to bed. Because this day's dragged on. Because It feels like it's been dark forever. Thanks to winter and it's lazy sun, daylight left me hours ago. So long ago, and I wish I were already sleeping. Not because I had a long day. Hardly. Not because I'm tired. No, I'm so far from tired.

I want to close my eyes tonight so I can open them tomorrow.

"God. I'm so freakin' bored."

I bellow from my sunken position on our too comfortable couch, as Madison laughs in such a smart ass way from her room.

"No. You're just really fucking frustrated."

Her voice is smothered in an all knowing smirk that I know is plastered all over her face, and I can't help but roll my eyes.

"Whatever."

Because she's right. She is always so freaking right it scares me. I'm so not bored. I'm so not antsy. I'm frustrated. I'm so frustrated. Because I haven't seen Ashley since Monday night. Since the music room sex night. Since the coming clean to Madison about Ashley night. 

And it's killing me. Because I'm missing her in more ways than one. I'm needing her in every possible way.

But this is what we both wanted. Ashley and me. We knew this was the only way, the only hope of us not doing anything until we confess to Glen. It's our only devastating hope. Because if there's one thing I've learned these past few days, if there's one thing I'm sure of, it's if I'm anywhere near Ashley, I need Ashley.

I have to have Ashley. And there's no stopping it.

It's just too hard. She's just too tempting.

Because she's my second beer when I've sworn to only have one. She's my one slice of pizza that becomes the whole pie. And I know it goes both ways.

We only have to wait till Saturday. After Lindsay's fifth birthday party, because anything before that could be disastrous. Because we both know our honest confessions will have repercussions. And whether those repercussions will ripple that far, I'm not sure, but what I am sure of is I will not ruin my niece's big day. I will not do that to her.

So we wait. Ashley and I find an impossible way of getting through each day without seeing each other. We talk on the phone. We whisper our secret words. We think of each other tied together, when we lie alone in bed late at night.

And it doesn't compare.

I'm growing more antsy by the day. I'm growing more needy every second. And I'm aching for her. Aching for her in such an unbelievable way that I can't fathom how I ever survived without her. How I ever got through a night without tasting her. Without holding her. Without seeing her so close while hearing her so intimate.

And while my untamed and nowhere near sated arousal is borderline painful and cruel, I'm still lucky for it. I'm really lucky, because it's distracted me from all the other feelings I should be feeling.

Like fear. Like anxiety. Like fucking terror.

Because it's only two days till Lindsay's birthday party. Which means it's only two days till I get to see Ashley. And that means it's only two days till we tell Glen.

But somehow, I'm only concerned with the former. Foolishly, I only care about seeing Ashley again.

"Maddy, find me something to do." I whine from the couch once more, as if I were a five year old begging my mother to take me somewhere fun. But it never worked as a child then, and it's certainly not working now. Madison merely strolls out from her room, wool jacket buttoned to her chin beneath a heavy scarf, and smirks at me.

She smirks cockily at me. Again.

"Sorry, babe, you've got the wrong brunette for that request."

She's not helping. In more ways than one.

"I have no clue what you're talking about." Breezes from my lying lips, eyes glazed and fixed on the blinking tv screen, while she rummages through the paper mess on the kitchen table.

And she just laughs at me. Again.

"Riiight."

Yeah, she's really not helping. She's only adding to the distraction. Ever since I told Madison everything, ever since I filled her with my secrets, she's only kept them safe. She's only kept me safe. Too safe. She's lifted the biggest weight of my life. She's made me feel ok. She's made me feel right. About me. About Ashley. About everything.

And I still don't know if that's a good thing.

"Why don't you just call her?"

She's now lifting various hoodies and jackets from random living room chairs and surfaces. [yeah, I'm the messiest slob ever

"Because..." I sigh, practically huffing and puffing "...because it makes me feel needy!"

Finally, I let it all out. The truth. The frustration. Still feeling funny discussing Ashley so openly. So normally.

So honestly.

"Well that's because..." Madison walks between the couch and table, patting me on the head on her way "...you are needy."

Sighing helplessly, her good natured insult doesn't even phase me, as I glance down at the remote between my hands. Fingers picking over the plastic as if they might do something. As if the smudges they create might actually make a dent someday.

"I can't call her, Madison..." inhaling a slow, thoughtful breath, I finish in a whisper, "...it only makes being away from her more hard."

That stops Madison's manic and frantic movements [searching for her bag I'm assuming and I can feel her eyes looking down on me with sympathy I've never wanted, before she walks back towards the recliner, slower and softer with her words, "...then you should call her."

"Madison, I cannnn't." Emphasizing every word, hoping she gets my point. Hoping she catches the drift that I actually, really, physically can't call Ashley.

"Look, Spencer, I know you guys have that silly agreement, which I really don't understand. I mean what difference does two days of staying away from each other make in the grand scheme of-" Her voice stops suddenly, as she darts behind a chair, throwing her purse over her shoulder and exclaiming to no one but herself "A-ha!"

She looks far too proud of herself, and for a moment I feel bad for being such a messy roommate. Only a moment though, before I remember the conversation at hand.

"Good work, Mads, now back to me. What were you saying?"

"Oh, I don't know, it wasn't that important..." Mindlessly mumbled from her proud adorable smile, she sifts through the life crammed inside her too small and overly packed bag, before her eyes perk up towards me, "Just call her, Spence."

She smiles warmly this time, as she walks towards our front door. But I want more. I want to whine till I get what I want.

"No, Madison, come on, tell me. You were talking about Ashley and me and our agreement and-"

"Look, stop worrying about what I _was_ saying and listen to what I _am_ saying..." Her eyes look down on mine, seriously, convincingly, letting me know I have no other choice but to listen "...I'm going over Jack's. For the night. For the _whooole_ night..." there's that not-helping-smirk from her too supportive lips, "...So you should call her. Please just call her."

Before I can protest and lie about how I can't and don't want to call Ashley, she teasingly winks and walks out the door. Leaving me all by my lonesome in our dark living room. Leaving me to my own weakening strength and crippling resistance to overwhelming temptation.

I sit up straight and go back to the remote. A newfound vigor and determination in my fingers and eyes.

I will find something to watch.

I will not think about Ashley.

I will not remember every single place we've kissed.

I will not relive every time we've had sex.

And I will not call her.

I will not, under any circumstance, call Ashley.

-------------

"Hey Ashley...err...Ash...it's me...Spencer..." Rolling my eyes for being such a moron , I continue stuttering into the phone, leaving the worlds most pathetic voice mail "...so I know we said we wouldn't hang out this week and stuff but..." I fiddle with the cotton of my sweat pants, breathing heavily "...but it's Thursday night and Greys starts any minute and you know how much I hate watching that addictive trash alone. I mean laughing and bitching about Meredith's self indulgent and self absorbed ways is depressing when I have to do it all by myself..."

Tired of rambling on the couch, I mosey over towards the window.

"...it's way more fun watching with you. So yeah, you should come over and watch. And hey if you do I'll make you popcorn. I mean, sure it's the microwavable kind and I'll probably burn it because I'm that hopeless in the kitchen...which really isn't my fault, everyone knows the popcorn button on a microwave is like more unreliable than the Bush Administration...oh by the way, I printed out the best Maureen Dowd editorial for you yesterday, have I mentioned how much I want to marry that woman? Well, remind me to tell you about that when..." I bite my lip "...you know, if you come over..." Eyes looking out the window and through the pink night sky, knowing snow is on it's way, I shrug, hopeless and defeated.

Ready to cut through the bullshit.

"...I don't know what I'm even mumbling about anymore. All I know is I miss you." One relieving sigh, just realizing how good, how freeing, telling the truth can sometimes feel, "...I really miss you Ash. And I really wanna see you. Tonight. Because, who's gonna tell me what every good song is that plays over every _dramatic_ surgery scene? And who's gonna put on a repeat of Friends when Greys is over, huh? Because you know I can never find it. You know I always wind up with Seinfeld or Mad About You, and you know how much I despise both those shows and their inane theme songs. See, I need you to rescue me from that kind of hell...I just..." taking a deep breath, I whisper "...I just need you."

Suddenly feeling vulnerable, I realize I need to wrap this up. I know it's time to give up hope on Ashley coming over.

I know it's time to accept my sleeping alone for the night.

"Right...I'm, uh, gonna go after leaving the worlds longest and most pointless message ever..." my voice becomes so quiet, softening on it's own accord for the honest words I'm about to breathe "...but I really wish I could see you, Peanut. Because I'm starting to forget how brown your eyes are. And that just isn't right..." One last honest sigh, I turn back around "...so you know-"

My breath hitches, when I find someone standing in the front door.

"Ash?"

She answers me with a soft smile, and a cute small wave, as I catch sight of a few melting snowflakes in her hair. Slightly dazed, I shut my phone.

"How long have you been standing there?"

To be honest, I'm somewhat mortified with the thought of her seeing me pour my pathetic heart out. Seeing me say the words she'll eventually hear. The words that felt far more safe without her eyes watching me say them.

"Long enough."

She smiles, knowingly, and I'm still kind of surprised by the sight before me. I'm still trying to comprehend the too good to be true fact that she's actually here.

"How did you...I mean..." A grin slowly spreads over my lips for finally registering her presence, for seeing her after missing her for what feels like forever "...how'd you know to come over?" before she can answer, however, an annoying light bulb goes off in my mind, "...wait, did Madison call you?"

Her face falls in adorable confusion, "Madison? No. No, why would Madison call me?"

She laughs in a baffled way, and I breathe a sigh of relief. "No, reason." Breathing another sigh of joy. For not having Madison meddle. For having Ashley here because she wants to be here.

Because she wants me.

And we just stand there. Staring at each other. Goofily. Naively. Taking in the sight we've been deprived of for far too long. Seeing everything we've only been able to imagine for days that's felt like years. Absorbed in only the two of us, nowhere close to living inside the surrounding world. Living in only our world.

"I miss you, Spence." Her soft but raspy voice cracks through the comfortable silence. "I miss you so much, I couldn't wait any longer. I don't care about Glen. He's out wherever doing whatever he wants. And I'm nowhere. So far away from everything _I_ want. I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't handle being so far away from _you_."

I feel my lungs tighten, with an ecstatic heart beating wildly between them. It's as if I'm hearing her confessions all over again. For the first time. And as she smiles at me, tentatively, shyly, I can tell she feels the same way.

"That's why I had to come over, that's why I had to see you..." the comfortable silence takes a turn for tense, turning wider and wider with every tediously slow step she makes towards me "...I was driving around tonight, just driving nowhere, anywhere. And all I could see were your smiling eyes. All I could hear was your adorable laugh..." Her eyes look darker than I remember, growing only more dark the closer she gets to me "...all I could think of were your hands holding mine, your hands somehow holding all of me at once..." I gulp from the way her voice becomes thicker with every one of her words "...and then you called. You called and suddenly I was driving here."

She's right before me now, easily smiling at me, and I no longer feel antsy or frustrated. And the last thing I want to do with her standing right before me, is go to sleep.

The only thing I want to do is touch her. Everywhere. All night. For as long as I can. But I can't. I can't, and I need to remember that. I need to remember our promise.

Slowly and gently, her hand reaches for mine, intertwining our foreign fingers. Making sure they become reacquainted after going so long without touching each other.

"Do you remember now?" Eyes looking right through mine, never feeling someone stare at me straighter in my entire life, before her voice rasps so close to my lips "...can you see how brown they are now?"

It finally hits me what she's talking about, it finally registers with me that she's referring to the end of my never ending voicemail. And while it makes me blush, it makes me smile more. Because of course I remember. I remember what I never ever forgot in the first place. How could I? How could I forget golden eyes that warmly tie into my cold sky blue ones. Lighting me up like they were the sun.

She licks her lips, and I have to fight the urge to lean into them.

I can not kiss her.

I will not, under any circumstance, kiss Ashley.

And before I realize it, Ashley's kissing me. Soft and slow and searing. Blazing another memory inside my mind. Making up for what little time we've lost that's actually felt like all the time we've ever had.

And as her tongue strokes right along mine, I have to literally scream inside myself. I have to write memo after memo on the post it pad inside my conscience.

We can not have sex.

I will not, under any circumstance, have sex with Ashley.

-------------

Ashley's body still shivers and shakes beneath mine. Chest pressed to her back, I pin her to the bed. Hands fully wrapped under her, one fitted between her legs, the other between her breasts.

We're both so tired. So spent.

So deliciously spent.

The skin on her spine is damp and slick, and it allows my dry lips to easily slide everywhere along it. Softly pressing my mouth against her from every angle, adoring every curve, every dip, every muscle that contracts and relaxes under my relaxing touch.

Soft moans fill the space between her pants. Both our lungs trying to find the air again. Trying to level our out-of-breath breathing. Together. My hands gently slide from their compromising positions, moving to more innocent places. Stroking along her ribs, causing her to giggle softly. Wisping along the outsides of her thighs, earning sharp intakes of her breath in return.

And I keep drawing my lips over her back. Drawing, sketching, painting, branding my love inside her sweaty skin. Dipping my tongue here and there, tasting the sweetest salt ever. Remembering it forever. Tasting and touching her to remember. For no other reason than to have her for a little longer. To feel her for every minute I possibly can.

Her body begins reacting to my touch, however. Curling into the mattress beneath her and pushing back into my body wrapped around hers. Spent sighs turn into pleading whimpers. And of course, I'm ready to give in. Ready to give her all she's asking for. Again.

But somethings changing. Something's unfolding between these damp sheets wrapped around our tangled bodies. Yes, something's happening alright. The air is shifting. The moment is intensifying. As if we both know what's inevitably coming. As if we're both finally realizing it. Accepting it.

And as a soft hand reaches back for mine, her gorgeous body turning between my arms, I feel a reality pit drop in my stomach.

"Come 'ere..." exhales from her exhausted lips "...come lay with me."

Through such a sincere whisper, I still hear something else in her voice, and it pulls me up the bed faster than ever. It slides me right next to her side, seeing her face to face. Reading her warm smile, making me smile.

Reading something unreadable, making me nervous. 

Her hands pull my face to hers, kissing me gently, before whispering, shakily, against my shaking lips "Thank you."

"My pleasure" Truthfully, meaningfully, rasps from my mouth, as we get stuck in a heated stare. Feeling her naked body pressed to my naked body. Feeling myself on sensory overload. Because feeling every one of your dreams, all at once, inside your reality is one of the most overwhelming emotions a person can have.

And I'm feeling them, right here, right now. Staring at Ashley's too pretty face. Staring at this unbelievably gorgeous girl lying in my bed.

"Whatcha thinkin about?" Through tired and lidded eyes, she whispers curiously against me, still sounding more adorable than ever, and I answer her absentmindedly. Unthinkingly.

"How pretty _you_ are..." Eyes scan over every one of her features, I softly speak from my thumping heart, "...how lucky _I_ am."

Once again, she looks like I've said the sweetest thing in the world, and it baffles me, because it pales in comparison to the things she's said to me. To the precious words she's always given me.

And then my lips are between hers again, feeling that same heaven I'll never get used to. But this time she's holding me with them. This time she's locking me with her kiss, never wanting to let me go. And as she pulls away, I feel how shaky her lips are. I can feel them trembling as we break apart. I can see tears forming in her eyes, fear marching on both our horizons.

And while those wet eyes used to frighten and push me away, they only pull me now. They only wrap my arms around her tighter. Needing to be impossibly closer to her.

"Hey, peanut..." one of my hands moves to her chin, gently forcing her to look at me as I carefully pull out what's upsetting her,"...whatcha thinking about?"

It absolutely kills me as I see her chin dimple. As I feel it quiver against my fingers, watching her bite onto her bottom lip, as if it could stop the shaking. "I'm thinking I can't lose you. I just can't lose you..." She says it, so softly, between her practically closed lips, and I want to tell her differently. I'm ready to be the one to tell her she won't lose me. For the first time, I'm not afraid to reassure her of how ok everything is going to be.

But then she wraps her hands around my back, kneading my skin with desperate fingers, and whispers hard words I've never heard leave her lips before.

"I'm scared, Spencer. I'm so scared."

And I can only hold her closer. Holding her for dear life, locking the lock she wrapped me in only moments before. Physically showing her she'll never lose me. Physically showing her there's nothing to be scared of.

No matter how hot her tears feel against my neck.

Or how terrified they make me.


	20. Act One :: The Befores

December 8th, 2008.

This is the day. The day where it all changes. The inevitable day you all knew would come, sooner or later. And truthfully, I knew it too. At least, I kind of always knew. Because I'm a worrier at heart, blood, and soul. I own the world championship belt for over-analyzing. I'm an over thinker to the point of exhaustion. I live my easy life the hard way, creating something out of nothing.

Every time.

Except for today. Today I've hung up that gaudy and over sized belt. I'm not wearing it and I'm not worried. Today, I'm not over-analyzing, either.

Not really. No. Today, as Madison and I drive to my childhood home, ready to change my life...for the better or the worse...I'm only looking back.

I'm only looking back and reliving.

Taking it from the top.

_My camera clicks into the silent air, as Ashley sleeps soundly inside my bed, beneath my thick white blanket. Safe from the white snow blanketing everything outside. Safe from the bitter real world, warmly isolated inside ours._

Today, later on, when the sun goes down, Ashley and I will tell Glen. Ashley and I will come clean.

But we're not really thinking about that yet.

We're only thinking of each other and the sleepovers we've had these past two nights.

It's still early morning, maybe seven. Maybe not. Who knows. Who cares. The only reason I'm not sleeping is because I had to see her this way. From this view. This angle. See her from a distance, a new perspective.

And all I see is how painfully beautiful she still is. No matter where you're looking. No matter where she's lying. No matter how out of reach or how small she looks through my viewfinder, she's still so close.

Picture after picture snaps from my trusty 35 mm. Locked and loaded with a full rolls worth of film. Doing things the old way. The real way. The hard way. No longer caring about being quiet and letting her sleep. No longer caring about perfection and technique. Blur and exposure forgotten. All I want is to freeze this moment. This beautiful lying-on-her-stomach girl in time. Freeze her in my time.

Freeze her in my life.

In black and white.

Something I never do. Something I savor. Something that is sacred. Early on, before I even knew about photography, I knew how I wanted to paint this world. I knew how I wanted others to see it through my eyes. I knew th in a world of color, I wanted my created black and white world to mean something. Used rarely. Used so rarely. Used on only something so unbelievably beautiful. Something you'd never see again. Something you had to see years later, when the memories have begun to fade.

Something you never wanted to have to remember. Because it was something you were already forever holding onto.

And on that fateful day where I first saw Ashley, I felt my clustered colored world close in. I felt it simplified and concrete.

Finally, I saw my world in black and white.

But really, it was her who painted my world in such beauty.

"Stop taking pictures and get back in here. I'm coooold..." She mumbles sleepily into her pillow with eyes still closed, "...I need my personal furnace back."

I can't stop the smile forming on my face, because really who wouldn't smile after hearing that? Who wouldn't jump back in the bed inhabiting that amazing human being?

"Well it's not my fault you're so pretty..." Whispered so softly and so sincerely, I wonder if she even heard me. But, as I slide in next to her, feeling my warmth from before, I know she heard me. I know from the honest smile her sleepy lips are forming. And I feel the warmth escalate as my body fits perfectly with hers. As her leg gently swings over my hip, hugging my body closer. Perfectly close.

Her face wears the cutest smile I've ever seen.

And I freeze it. I store it and save it. Backing it up on every memory drive I have.

"So pretty?" Eyes forming shy smiles, she looks genuinely surprised, "...Really? This early in the morning?"

"Uh huh..." Breathes from my mouth, nodding gently, as I sweep my fingers along her forehead, brushing her hair to the side "...bedhead and all, you're the prettiest girl in the room..." My eyes flick to her lips, letting my open words breathe over them "...prettiest girl in the world."

I mean it. I mean it with all my heart. And she knows it. She knows it and she needs to feel me. So she does. Lips melting mine between hers, she kisses me so slowly. She freezes time. She freezes me. Freezing everything so much stronger than any camera could.

Cause I'll never forget kisses like these. I never want to have to.

But something seems like all we have are memory kisses.

Something tells me, remembering is the only way I'll feel this mouth.

And as she pulls away, eyes watching every sweep her thumb makes across my wet lips, I know she feels the same. I know she's tracing this moment, etching it inside her overwhelmed mind.

She finally looks at me. Strong and straight. And I know just what she's thinking. I know just where she's going and I'm more than ready to reassure her, even before she asks.

"You ready, Spence?"

"You ready, Spence?"

My eyes glaze out the car window. Distant and unfocused, I'm still rooted to Madison's front seat, looking right through my parents house.

As if it weren't really there.

"Yeah..." I glance down to my tied hands resting on my twitching knees for a brief moment, before looking towards the house again, drifting to the driveway, fixed on _their_ car, overdosing on Ashley and Glens joint life "...yeah, I think I am."

Taking more time than a tortoise, we make our way to the front door. We walk together, step for step, and as Madison loosely links our hands, whispering a sweet "you got me, babe" I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

By the time we walk inside, I think I'm doing a little of both.

_Slowly and gently, her hand reaches for mine, intertwining our foreign fingers. Making sure they become reacquainted after going so long without touching each other._

"Do you remember now?" Eyes looking right through mine, never feeling someone stare at me straighter in my entire life, before her voice rasps so close to my lips "...can you see how brown they are now?"

Ashley's chocolate eyes are the first ones I see inside our overtly packed front hallway. And I already feel weak in the knees. I already need to push her inside a dark place. Needing to have her all to myself.

Even if it's just to sit and talk.

"Sweetie, you're just in time!" My mother squeaks, excitedly, wrapping me in a too tight hug, as if she hasn't seen me in years [and after what's happened with Ashley, she kind of hasn't

"...everyone's in the kitchen taking orders for dinner. Pizza, of course. You know how much that little girl loves her pizza..." Pulling away, my mother looks me up and down, as she does every week "...and you better hurry in there, because you're looking awfully skinny Minny these days."

My mother always says this, and it always unnerves me. But tonight, it comforts me. Because it's familiar. It's a constant. Because when everything is only a few hours from breaking routine, from possibly breaking me, I embrace my regularity.

She finally lets me go, wrapping an arm around Clay as they stroll towards the kitchen, taking the full hallway of just arrived guests right along with them. Leaving only Ashley and me. Alone. Leaving me with those eyes that say so much more than words ever could. Leaving me inside a black and white world.

And we seep inside it. Letting our colors blend and mud together. Looking. Staring. Freezing. Frozen in time. For one instant. 

Melting the second she speaks.

"Hey Jelly."

It's merely a sweet breath from her lips, with antsy hands crisscrossed mid air before her waist. Needing them to hold each other as a means to not smother me with her love. With her unadulterated want.

"Peanut." Leaves my lips in the same swollen and swallowed air, and it's all it takes for her to finally move to me. For her to finally hold me. Holding me as if we were the best friends everyone believes us to be.

However, they don't catch my fingers tied and threaded behind her back. Clasping her between my arms.

Locking my biggest love with my weakest chains.

_"I'm dying inside, Ash. It's killing me because I can't imagine going on like this. I can't imagine Glen coming home tomorrow, and still...still sneaking around with you like this...but then...then I think about not being able to hold you anymore..." Whimpered like a wounded puppy, I keep sputtering and stuttering "...or...or not kissing you, or sleeping beside you..." The tears are back in full force, mirroring the ones spilling from her eyes "...and I literally can't breathe."_

Like a little girl so far and so lost from her home, my lips fumble for more direct words.

"What are we going to do?"

She remains before me, just a few feet away. For a moment, she looks around this room. This room full of her dust covered dreams, before her safe and direct eyes spear into mine.

"We figure it out." So simply stated she strides to me, holding my neck strongly between her shaking hands, lowering her mouth to mine, whispering inside it "...because I'm so in love with you too, Spence..." our trembling lips tremble together "...and you can breathe. You can breath because I won't let you suffocate."

I'm finding it hard to breathe inside this packed room. In a room so sheltered and so unknowing. Inside this living room where all of us, family and friends, are packed freely, as if it were our spacious backyard. Four little girls run around with my niece. Sprinting between adult leg skyscrapers. Swerving around furniture curves and bends. So unaware. So naive. So young.

So lucky.

"Hey stranger." Aiden plops down on my living room couch, wrapping a buddy arm around me, and I smile softly. I whisper, speaking the only word I can.

"Hey."

His fingers pinch my shoulder, supportively, caring for me without even realizing I need him too. Without ever needing to know. And it feels good. Because he's Aiden. Because he's familiar and worn-in, like an old TV room recliner. He fits so well inside my past, that my present can't help but feel comfortable if he's inside it.

And I love him for it.

"She looks good..." He seems hesitant as he nods towards _her_, throwing a careful look my way "...I mean she seems happy. You know?" one firm shake of his head, "...She seems good."

Of course I don't even need to see who he's nodding towards to know he's talking about _her_. My eyes were already on hers long before he sat down. My eyes have been right on her pretty face in the space where living room meets dining room. Watching the reason for my breathlessness. Watching the air that allows me to breathe. Realizing how surreal it is that she manages to do both.

She stands between my parents, idly and comfortably chatting. Right smack in the middle of my creators, looking like she's in the middle of hers. The way her lips smile instinctively. Just for being close to them. The way my mom wraps an easy arm around her shoulder, looking towards my father with proud eyes.

The way my mother holds Ashley as if it were me.

"Yeah..." I have to look down on my bottle, hoping no one will see the blatant proud smile on my face, as I whisper a screaming confession from my own shaking heart "...she is."

_"I want to see you..." shakily breathes into my ear "...I want to see you as I do this."_

And then her fingers are inside me. But they're not really inside me. They're just close enough to feel that way. Fumbling over my entrance. Feeling me out like we felt lips earlier. Tips of fingers trace over my every angle and plane. My every curve and dip. My every nerve.

Tips of fingers move far too easily against me. Drawing everywhere, scribbling outside every one of my lines.

The kitchen is packed with lines of people. Looking for a slice of pizza. Looking to get theirs first, as if it somehow won't be there if they wait too long. As if the five people before them could eat it all. As if they'd take everything, leaving nothing behind but feeble crumbs.

"How you doin'?"

Madison leans over and whispers in my ear, and while it warms me. While her concern eases me the slightest bit. I can only shrug in return. I can only hope with a tiny smile. A small sad smile.

"It's gonna be good, Spence, you'll see."

Her hand tugs lightly on my wrist, reminding me once more how lucky I am to have her. But I still don't say anything. Because it's so pointless. Because I really don't have anything to say.

Because how can I possibly know how anything is gonna be after today?

And she knows. She's always known. My fear and insecurity. My need to prepare for the worst, before coming anywhere close to hoping for the best. And some days I wish she didn't know so much.

Either way, she accepts my silence. With a quick hand squeeze, she accepts me for who I am, with all my little faults. And some days...some days I wish she didn't accept so easily.

But it's too late to worry about that, she's already walking off into the fray. Looking for her own slice. And I'm already staring behind me.

Looking for _my_ slice.

And I find her easily. I see her right away. Because I already knew where she was. Because I've always known. Standing in the dining room, right before the open doorway, she wraps her arms around her tiny frame, watching all of us. Just watching. Eyes distant and fazed, she's freezing time. She's collecting moments and memories with those eyes. And I'm wondering what she's thinking. I'm wondering what is going on in that beautiful head of hers.

She gives me a look. A look with a thousand words that I don't know how to read. Words that mean more than letters can provide, and I'm about to walk right towards her.

But I'm too late.

She's already walking away from me, heading for the stairs.

_"I shouldn't have…I mean, we… maybe…" She starts, full of insecurity "…we shouldn't have done that."_

She finishes in a whisper that would have shot through my heart if I believed a word it. If I believed she meant it at all, even in the smallest percentage. But she doesn't, and I don't either. We should have done this. We so should have done this.

Following Ashley's trembling trail, I make slow steps along our second floor hallway, hearing every one of them creak beneath my heavy feet. I stop outside the first open door, finding everything I've been looking for. Everything I've been needing. Standing right in the middle of my bedroom, she looks a million miles away.

_"Please...do something...please be the one to do it. I'm so tired. I'm so tired of always being the one..."_

I'm crying so hard as she stands crying so hard before me. I'm crying for her bravery. For her honesty. For her vulnerability. For putting all of herself out there. For putting everything she keeps safe and hidden inside of her, right in front of me.

Her back's to me, and I know she's staring out the window. I know her eyes need to look at something that won't look back.

"They're all going to hate me."

She whispers into the space, not even needing to hear my voice. Not even needing to look to know I'm right behind her.

"Who?" Asks quietly and so foolishly from my nervous mouth. Because I know exactly who she's talking about. Just like I've always known. Just like I've always feared.

"Them. Your parents. Your brothers...your family..." She finally turns towards me, with blinking and weary eyes, lips wet from the tears "...It's ok for you Spence, cause you're one of them. You're permanent, they can't hate you. But me?" She points one single finger right into herself like a knife "...me who was merely invited into the family. I only have a paper invitation Spence, one that can be so easily thrown away."

She's always had a way with words, but this time. This time she's ripping through me with them. This time they're not just words. This time it's her fears personified. It's her nightmares realized and I need to go to her. I need to run to her.

_And now I have to run. I cough without even realizing it, looking out to my brother and best friend [keeping my eyes nowhere near her as I try and find my voice "Hey guys, I think I gotta be going, big day tomorrow..."_

Her eyes shoot through me, right through me, as I slide out from my chair. But before I can leave, something stops me. Something in the form of her hand grabbing onto mine beneath the table. Holding mine like I held hers mere minutes ago.

"Hey no, Spence, don't go."

I have her wrapped inside my arms, hearing her murmur lost words into my neck. Not understanding any of them, not able to hear them between my reassurance. Between my "no they won't"s and "it's gonna be ok"s.

Not even able to hear her truths through my lies.

For an instant she pulls away, shaking her head profusely, going straight into emotional overdrive.

"Please Spence. They can't hate me. I can't lose..." Is all I hear before she hugs me again. Hugging tighter, with her life, feeling my lungs constrict with the weight. Feeling my body working to actually breathe through her gripping hold.

"No one will hate you, Peanut, I promise..." I lie, because how can I promise something like that?

"Ok? I won't let them." I tell the truth, because it's all I can do. Because I'd stop the world if I could, if it meant she'd be safe. Safe from hate. From hurt and pain.

_Her eyes softly trail over the features of my face, and I'm thrown completely off guard as I realize my hands are cradling her hips. My hands are softly holding her close to me, where I've always wanted her. And I wonder...I wonder if I'll ever let her go._

My thumbs brush away her tears, neglecting my own. Realizing for once, I don't have any. Realizing I'm trying to be the strong one. Realizing, that for once, I actually am the strong one.

And it only makes me feel stronger.

"We're gonna be ok, Ash."

Her wet eyes look up to mine through clumped together eyelashes, breath stuttering out, looking like she's searching through me for an answer to this worlds every question. Needing to know the rhyme to every one of life's reasons.

"How do you know that?"

For once she needs me to reassure her, she's looking at me with eyes that used to be only reserved for me. And for once, I will do anything to make this better. No matter how scared I feel inside. No matter how unsure I am of everything.

No matter how sure I am of things not being ok.

"Madison told me..." Smiling sweetly, I try to give her as much lying honesty as I possibly can, while cupping her precious face between my clumsy hands "...And I'd believe her, because, well everyone knows she's the smartest kid on the block."

_"Because I've always known that that hand is out there. I've always known that that person is out there who's hand I'd never hesitate in grabbing, because I couldn't not hold them. Because I'd have to always be connected to them. Always."_

She finally breaks, laughing and crying all at once, as her hands move to grab mine. Squeezing them white with her desperate fingers. Letting out all her worry. All her pain, all her everything. Letting it all drip from her mouth with each chuckle.

"God, I love you Spence." She kisses my hands joined between hers with wobbly lips, connecting with me in any place she can, wherever the skin is exposed, wherever I am open, "...I love how you always do that."

Her lips on me, any part of me, pulls me away from this situation and forces my voice into oblivion as I whisper "Do what?"

But it's her solid and sure voice that pulls me back into the moment.

"I love that you make me laugh when all I want to do is cry..." She takes a deep breath, to further cement her in time, inside this moment, to build strength to keep going "...that you help me breathe when all I feel is strangled."

_"No, Spence. He doesn't have me."_

And then her lips are slowly moving towards mine, trying so hard to back out, but knowing it's pointless. Because even though I'm only feeling her mouth now, we've been kissing all night. We've been meeting lips with our eyes, with our words unspoken. With our shared moments behind closed doors.

Like what we're doing right now.

We're doing everything we absolutely shouldn't inside my childhood bedroom. With it's own innocent memories. Tainting them. Deprecating them. And I could care less. Because all I feel is her love inside my mouth. All I feel is my need inside hers. All I feel is my desire to never let her go, instead of worrying about who might see. Instead of living inside this very real moment, I'm reliving my life. Reliving my memories. Reliving them all at overwhelming once.

_"He doesn't have this."_

I'm seeing every nose wrinkling smile, as her lips break and slide across my mine.

_"He doesn't have any of it, Spence, and he never has."_

Tasting my tears on her tongue, running along mine. All I hear is her adorable high pitched laughter. Laughing at every silly word out of my mouth.

_"Please, Spence, take it. Keep it..." She nods once in a punctuating way, ending any chance of me giving back her gift. "I want you to have my 2005..." I can hear her breaths stuttering as they shake from her unsturdy lips, "...I want you to have my hardest year..." Her hands squeeze over mine "...because you're what got me through it. You're what saved me from it."  
_

Feeling every one of her heartfelt words inside my beating heart. Flowing through the pumping blood coursing through my entire body as her hands cup my cheeks. Doing what she always does, always taking control. And I let her, because I always want her to have it. I always want her to take it. I always throw myself right into her trusty hands, never feeling safer.

_She looks up at me with new, warm eyes, "Yeah. That's when I came here and that's when I found a life again cause..." For the first time in awhile she smiles with a shred of happiness "...that's when I found you." _

Her mouth breaks from mine, pulling away from me, causing my body to fall forward slightly. Leaning on her for more support than I already do. Needing even more than she already gives me.

_"Please say you love me that way. Please Spence...Please just do something..."_

"We shouldn't be doing this..." Her eyes look down on my lips, uncertain, desperately wanting to believe the words she's whispering "...not here."

_"You're wasting your time on someone who doesn't hold your hand."_

One loosely linked hand through mine, "...we can't do this..." once more, she pleads and preaches to herself, needing to convince herself, she turns with a heavy breath. Ready to walk away from me. 

_"You're my Jelly."_

But I can't let her go. I just can't. I'm unable of letting her go at this point. I hold her back. On instinct, on stupidity, I pull her back to me, because I don't want to lose this feeling. This moment. This time. I'm already in this too deep. I'm already lost inside her touch and taste. I'm so lost I don't even know where I am. I'm so inside I forget everything and everyone who is outside.

I'm too careless to care about who might find us. Who might be looking for us.

_"Leaving so soon?"_

"Leaving so soon?"

And I want her to feel it too as I whisper, sweetly, against her lips. Replaying our first memory. Replaying when time stood still for the first time.

Reliving the first frozen frame of my life.

_"See, I think you should stay. You don't know what you're missing out on,"_

And she knows it. She knows it so well, she can't stop smiling. She doesn't even let me finish the memory before she pulls us back, closing the door behind her with her foot. Lips colliding with mine in a bruising kiss.

A freezing kiss.

And I feel time suspended, once more and maybe forever.

Pushing me to my no good bed, we get lost in limbs, tongues, teeth, and regret. We get lost in our love, tears, and neglect.

_There was something in her voice, her words, that made me believe her. I knew I'd be missing out if I didn't hang around._

She kisses everywhere across my neck, leaving me in a wordless puddle. Leaving me in a place where I'd never be able to stop. A place where I no longer can hear the cries and pleads that we need to stop this. The shouting at how wrong this all is.

Because all I feel is how right _this_ is. How right _she_ is. All I feel is that last and first memory.

_So I stayed._

And as she whispers in my ear, reliving it all with me, "I'm glad you stayed."

I can't help but wonder if we'll ever leave. Because time is frozen now. We are frozen, with our hot bodies pressed together. Wrapped in only each other.

Because that's how life goes.

Because that's what happens seconds before everything changes.

Just like oblivious smiling passengers before a deathly car crash, we're seeing our lives flash before our eyes.

Completely neglecting those same precious lives heading right for a hopeless collision.


	21. Act Two :: The Break

When I was ten years old, I sped my cruiser straight down a steep hill, watching anywhere but the road. Indulged in childish smiles and laughter, I swiped the side of a parked car, sending my little body head first over my handlebars. As I flew through the too sunny sky in slow motion, I didn't hear a single thing. Not the cars screeching and stopping. Not Madison's screams. Not my shrieking own.

When I slammed and skimmed across the dark gravely pavement, I didn't feel anything. Not my tan skin tearing. Not my left collarbone breaking right in half.

No, as I rolled over, flat on my aching back, left arm loose and throbbing, I was numb. I was so far outside myself, I wondered if I was still alive. It was as if life knew I couldn't handle such gross severity. Like life knew my little heart couldn't sustain such unbearable pain.

So I lied there on the hot pavement, tears cascading down my cheeks, cries puttering out of my mouth, looking up to the sky. Watching a lone bird float high in the air. Watching it beautifully and delicately weave it's path through nothing. Feeling myself floating right there with it. Feeling none of the pain.

It wasn't till the bone was set back into place, till my body was put back together, that I felt that body scream back to life again.

And now, as my bedroom door opens with Ashley floating above me like that same lone bird, I don't feel it. I don't feel my life breaking right in half. I only feel Ashley's hand crammed inside my too tight jeans, searching for something she'll never find. As my mother stutters "Oh God, I...I'm...uh...sorry", I don't hear it. I only hear Ashley's grunts of exhaustion against my neck instead.

And as my mother slams that same door shut, I only see Ashley hanging above me, eyes wide with fright, hand stuck inside my underwear. Still feeling her fingers against me.

Suddenly, she jumps back from the bed, fingers fumbling for the buttons of her shirt, but I stay straight where I am. Lying flat on my back, on my warm comforter, staring up at the ceiling. Looking at the cracked and chipped paint. Watching it blur and fuzz as instinctual tears crowd my eyes.

"Shit..." Ashley is so very aware, more so than me, as she paces with hands cradling her head "...shit, shit, fuck..." I hear her stop above me, "...fuck, Spence. What are we...I mean...that was..." She's hiccuping, she's sputtering "...that _was_ your mom, right? I mean please tell me I was just imagining that whole nightmare. Please."

My eyes close on their own accord, shaking the tears down my cheeks. Teeth biting my bottom lip so hard I could draw blood. But I don't feel it. I don't feel anything. Not even Ashley's desperate hands tugging my removed body.

"Please, Spence, come on, what...what..." She sniffs and coughs hurriedly, blinking back tears, "...what are we going to do?"

One final moment of numbness, before I breath in bitter air. Before I slide my shaking hands from my face. Before I pull my body from the bed to face hers.

Hardly able to look into her weary eyes, I breathe an "I don't know..." only spurring my hopelessness further, sending more tears from my eyes as I exclaim a bit more forceful, "...I really don't know."

My eyes are now clamped shut, not able to see what's truly unfolding here. Not able to see what's truly unfolding inside of her, because I know what I'm going to find inside those eyes. I know exactly what's going on inside that pretty head of hers.

Because it's exactly what's going on inside mine.

"God, we are so fucking stupid..." She walks away from me, and I already feel my whole body numbly shaking "...Seriously, what were we thinking?"

"We weren't." I whisper, idiotically, and she just turns to me, incredulous.

"Oh thanks for that one, Sherlock. Really, big fucking help."

"Hey!" That snaps me into some form of awareness, somewhat taken back by her anger, by her bitterness "...I wasn't fucking myself in that bed, ok? We're both in this together. And really, we were gonna tell Glen later tonight, what does it matter if she already knows? She was going to find out sooner or later."

My fright and shock speak words I don't mean. Words I don't even recognize. Words I wish had never poured from my loose lips, knowing how badly they'll flood this whole scene. Knowing they'll only flood and drown her.

And as I look at her, I see what I feared. I see her already soaked and choking.

"Are you for real right now?" She looks at me as if she's expecting me to answer, but of course the last thing she wants to hear is my voice,"..It makes a big fucking difference, Spencer. It's everything. Because now all she's gonna see is me on top of you. _Me_, her daughter-in-law, fucking _you_, her daughter. Ok? That's the image she's going to be left with now, that tainted and wrong vision, no matter what that is what she'll see when she sees me..."

Her body shakes visibly, but her vision is anything but unsturdy. No, her eyes stare a blazing straight and solid line right through me.

"It makes all the difference, Spencer, because now I'm the monster. I'm the bad guy. So, no..." She shakes her head as if she wants to wake herself from this living nightmare "...no, Spence, we are _not_ in _this_ together."

Before I can get a word, an apology, a sob, an _anything_ out, she's opened my door. Running right smack into my mother, waiting in the hall. I can see the unstoppable gears steaming inside Ashley's mind, seeing just how bad this whole situation is. Feeling the reality of it seep into her bones, and I know she's terrified.

"Oh God..." Is the last thing I hear her breathe before she cries her way down the hall. 

Leaving me to face my mother and her eyes, all on my own. Seeing those eyes stare at me so distanced, I feel my lungs physically close in on themselves. Having to see those loving eyes cold and disappointed, I need to get out of here. I need anywhere they're not, but her voice freezes and roots me to the spot.

"Not now, Spence, not tonight."

"Mom-"

"Leave it, Spence."

I stare at her for a moment, and suddenly this all feels like a dream. Because I see something so unbelievable in her eyes. I see a part of her that isn't really surprised. I see all of her knowing all about this all along.

And I see her wanting me to stay right where I am. She wants me to leave a weeping Ashley to weep on her own. But I could never do that, and I can't right now.

Pushing past my angered and disapproving mother, I race down the stairs, hardly able to keep up with my stuttering feet. Madison is the first person I hear as I barrel towards the front door.

"Spence, Spence, woah, woah..." She grabs my arm, spinning me back to her, "...what's going on, what happened?"

"Ashley..." I can only breath her name and that's it. Just sucking in the air around me as if I've started a marathon. Having to really think about how to keep inhaling and exhaling. Consumed by dizziness, feeling very lightheaded and very nauseous all of a sudden.

"She just left with Glen in a pretty big rush. Is she ok?..." Her eyes trail over mine, as something seems to dawn on her "...What happened Spence, did someone-" As if on cue, her eyes look over my shoulder, catching sight of what I'm assuming is my mother "...oh my God, Spence, you guys didn't...she didn't-"

But I'm not waiting to hear her. I'm not waiting for her to voice my serious misfortune, blaring it to life. Nope, I'm racing out the front door, plowing through my parents perfect lawn, and crying over to our driveway. Feeling my stomach flip over and over, as I find Glen and Ashley fighting. Watching the way he looks so troubled and bothered.

Watching the way _she_ looks so broken. So inconsolable.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Glens voice bellows inside my sensitive ears, sending more tears to my eyes.

"Nothing..." Ashley's voice croaks, thick with tears, "...I just want to go home. Please, Glen. Please, can we just go?"

"No. I'm not leaving until you tell me what the fuck is going on. You're a mess and crying and something happened. Tell me what it is Ashley."

He doesn't sound as compassionate or sensitive as a husband should. And it infuriates me.

"Leave her alone, Glen!"

He laughs, as if he can't believe I had the audacity to speak such words, before continuing far too casually, not taking me, or Ashley for that matter, as seriously as he should.

"Go back inside Spencer, we're in the middle of something."

But I'm far from casual. I'm reeling and removed. I'm weeping and needy.

"Fuck off Glen."

And I don't care anymore. I don't care about hiding, about hurting, about losing. 

"You fuck off, Spencer, this doesn't concern you."

Because I can finally breathe. Because, for once, I feel so alive. I feel so free that I can't stop myself. I can't stop myself from starting Ashley and my late night show right now. Making it an early matinée.

"Actually Glen..." Taking a deep breath, catching one last look of disapproval from Ashley shouting 'please, don't go there', I go there "...it does concern me."

That gets his attention. That grabs it and strangles it inside my hands. Inside my wobbly voice.

"What are you whining about now?"

His blatant rudeness only adds more fuel to my fire. Only throws more salt into Ashley's wounds. And I have to send her an apologetic look, a meaningful look, telling her that I need to do this, that it has to be now.

Hoping she's with me. Hoping she won't leave me all alone when it's all said and done.

"It does concern me Glen, because..." One deep breath "...you are a moron."

He looks at me with rightful confusion, unaware of the weighty meaning behind my heavy words. He's so baffled that he's ready to cut me short, but I speak over him, "...This concerns me because you don't know what you have..." I give a silent and weeping Ashley my most sincere eyes, my voice becoming so small, so diminutive as I speak such powerful words, "...because you never hold _her_ hand.."

Glens roaring laughter breaks the moment, breaks what looked like a close to smiling Ashley.

"...Ok, you're drunk and wasting our time talking about holding hands or something gay like that, go sober up Spenc -"

"This concerns me Glen," My booming voice shuts him right up, my clear and strong voice paints my sobriety perfectly for him, as I speak with nothing but fear and honesty "...because you don't love her, Glen..." For once he looks like he knows just what I'm talking about, before I finally let it all out "...not like I do."

In an instant life is put on mute. Not a sound can be heard inside this night. Not the cars breezing by on some distant road. Not Ashley's swallowed and muffled sobs. Not even my mother, who is probably standing right behind me.

Through the unnerving silence, Glen asks with squinting eyes and a harsh whisper. "What'd you just say?"

It scares me how offended he looks, it rattles me how real this all feels. But I breathe in deep, ready to repeat myself. Ready to repeat the most honest words inside me.

"I love her, Glen." I'm surprised by how good it feels to actually say it, how strong it makes me feel "...I love her in a way you'll never know. You'll never understand. Because I know her. I know her better than anyone..." I can't tell if he wants to laugh at me or slap me, but I bite my lip. I feel myself tremble "...I know her in a way you've always taken for granted. You don't care about her Glen, you never have. She's just another trophy to you. She's just another beautiful object inside your beautiful house that you can call yours...but she's not..." I stop myself, reeling from the brutal honesty of my own words "...she's not yours, Glen."

"Oh so she's what..." He laughs, but I don't think he finds this very funny. "...she's yours then? Get real, Spence-"

"She's right..." For once, Ashley's unrecognizable voice enters the scene, taking both Glen and me by surprise. But it's only Glen, turning to her faster than a tornado, who looks unbelievably moved by what she's said. "You don't know me, Glen, you never have..." Her arms hug herself, voice growing stronger with each word, "...you don't care about me, you never have. You don't have me, you never have. You don't love me, you never have..." She crumbles, tears spilling over clouded eyes, "...and _I_ don't love _you_, I never have, and that _you_ do know. That you've _always_ known."

Before we can say anything, she grabs the keys from his hands, wordlessly walking to the car. I watch the scene like a movie, forgetting that this is actually happening to me. Forgetting that I don't want to be left alone. Forgetting that she's the one leaving me.

Forgetting she never said anything to confirm everything else I said.

Working on adrenaline, on instinct, I push past my dumbfounded brother and force my way inside their Escalade without even realizing it. And she doesn't even look at me as she starts the car, as she reverses out the drive way, as she pulls over just down the street.

"Get out Spencer."

What?

"What? No." I shake my head, feeling tears not belonging to me spill over my cheeks "...no I'm not getting out. We need to talk. We need...we need to be together...not alone..." My words are quivering and stuttering, lost between my heavy breaths, and steady sobs, as I whisper, so vulnerable "...I don't want to be alone. I _can't_...not without you..."

She hears it. She hears my little girl fear as my little voice floats away. And she sighs because of it. She sighs for the heartbreak in my voice, in her heart, leaning her weary head on the steering wheel. "This isn't how this was supposed to go...it wasn't supposed to be this messy...it wasn't..."

Her body shakes above the wheel, and all I want to do is reach for her. But for some reason, I don't feel allowed. For some reason all I hear is her not confirming my love. All I feel is my insecurity nagging me. All I feel is a stranger beside me.

So I don't reach for her. I only reach for myself.

"Why didn't you..." I blink away annoying tears, looking out the window "...why didn't you say everything else?"

"What?" She's tired and not following and I'm only feeling more foolish.

"Before. To Glen. You didn't..." My voice is so weak, and I hate it, I don't want to sound so worn down as I try and stick up for myself "...you didn't say you loved me too. You didn't say that we were...you know..." hoping my ambiguity paints enough of a picture, I mumble off "...you didn't say anything..."

"Please Spencer, this night has been a nightmare, please don't analyze and judge the way I fell apart inside it."

She sounds honestly defeated, but it only bruises my beaten down heart more. It only makes me feel more alone than I've ever felt.

"I'm not judging you." Brisks from my bitter mouth, and she just turns to me, matching my tone bite for bite.

"Yeah, Spence, you are."

"Well maybe if you didn't make me feel so fucking dumb. Maybe if you didn't leave me to hang out there all on my own instead of only looking out for yourself-"

"What? What the hell are you talking about Spencer?! All I've ever done is look out for you, all I've ever cared about is how you felt. All I've ever done is baby your feelings- "

"Oh really?" Cackles from my cruel cruel mouth, about to go some place I never even knew existed inside of me "...is that what you were doing when you married my brother? Were you babying my feelings then Ash?"

Woah. And her face says it. Her gaping mouth spells she never knew I had it in me either.

"What?" Seethes between her clenched teeth, and it frightens me. It shakes me because I've never seen such a mixture of pain and anger. But I'm already so inside this, I can't back track now. I can't take back any of these words.

There's just been too many. There's already been too much honestly said on this wicked night to stop now.

"Why, Ash? Please, just tell me why, if you don't love my brother, if you _never_ loved him...why the hell did you marry him??"

It squeaks out from my mouth, because that's what happens when you finally voice a question you've been waiting years to ask. And she looks absolutely stricken. She looks unbelievably taking back. She looks like she doesn't know how to form words, and as she mumbles and fumbles and opens and closes her mouth, I'm starting to wonder if she really doesn't know how.

"Seriously, Ash..." Regret and insecurity biting at me, because of her silence, because of her lack of confirmation from before, I take one last stab into a body that'll never come back, not after I cross this line "...Was it for the money?"

"Fuck you, Spencer, seriously. Fuck. You."

It would scare me if she weren't sobbing when she said it. No, it only shatters me, because if I thought I was regretful before those horrid five words spewed from my mouth, I had no clue. I've never regretted something so badly before in my entire ridiculous life.

"I'm sorry, Ash, I didn't-"

"Is that what you really think of me, Spencer? Really?" Her face looks so torn and shattered, I hardly recognize it, "...if you even have to ask that..." She's shivering as she turns away from me "...then you don't know me, you know _nothing_ about me..." her voice becomes so quiet, as if she's unwilling to accept what she's about to say "...and I know even less about you..."

Silence rains over us, in the most permanent droplets. Mixing and blending with our tears.

"You know I don't think that, Ash, please you know I don't..." I finally chance a whisper into the air, having to let her know I could never think that, and while she doesn't say anything to debate it, she still won't look at me, looking so frostily out the steamed up dash, "...I just don't understand..." I'm so unbelievably tired, feeling so unbelievably dizzy, wondering if maybe Glen was right, maybe I am drunk "...I just don't see how you could...how you could marry him..."

Finally she turns to me, with unmistakable tears in her eyes. Tears not for where we're going, as if we're going together. Not for all we've accomplished tonight. No she has tears in her eyes that cry for where we'll never go. For what we've lost. Between the words we can't take back. Between the decisions we never made. Between the months and years we've lost.

"You still don't get it, Spence. You still don't. God..." She bites her lip and shakes her head "...don't you see that all I've ever wanted is you? That all I've ever loved is you? Please, why won't you ever realize that. Why can't you just believe it?"

"How can I, Ash? How could I? You dated my brother, you were with him. Not me."

I'm soft as I speak ridiculousness. And she knows it.

"Oh please, Spencer, any one with eyes knew I was doing it to get close to you! Any one, even you."

I don't know what to say. Because she's right. Because she's uncovering my faults now.

"How was I supposed to know, Spence, huh? How was I to believe that you actually loved me too? After all the times I tried to get you to open up. All the times I practically threw myself at you, only to have you throw me back...what was I supposed to think? What was I supposed to do??"

She makes a good point, but it still doesn't connect a to b. It still doesn't answer that wedding day.

"Oh so you figure I don't love you, might as well marry my asshole brother?" I laugh, incredulously "...it doesn't make sense, Ash, it doesn't add up, it's like-"

"Because I didn't want to be alone! Alright?!" Shrieks and echoes and runs everywhere inside this car.

And suddenly, everything makes sense.

"Because if you didn't love me...like I loved you...then at least I could have you as family..." She whispers into her hands, never sounding younger in her life "...I could have you forever..." Taking a deep breath, she sounds like she's ready to be more honest "...and I don't know why I couldn't trust that that could happen on it's own, without marrying your brother. It was so stupid, _I_ was so stupid. But I couldn't help it, after meeting your family..." A head shake full of exhaustion leaves her, and I know we're about to get into real reasons "...I met them, Spence, these awesome people, people you're so lucky to have, people who actually liked me. Who actually started, like, including me. They started loving me..."

The light bulb goes off inside my dumb dumb brain and she still won't look at me as she speaks directly from her too open heart. "I forgot what that was like. Having a family. It felt nice. Too nice. I didn't want to lose it."

Staring out her side window, she breathes so heavily.

"So you married Glen for my family?" It comes out more rude than I had intended. But the longer that question sits in the silent unanswered air, the more I realize that maybe it was my intention. The more I realize I don't know what to think of all this. The more silent she becomes, the more insecure I feel.

"Is that what you're doing with me now? Keeping me to keep my family?"

Once again I've asked the wrong thing, because she sighs so heavily I feel like she may have lost herself in it. She only closes her eyes, as she rolls her head back against her seat, staring up to the car ceiling.

"Get out, Spencer, please just get out of my car."

"What? No..." My heart is racing cause something about that request sounds too final. Too serious, too much like she's never meant or wanted something more "...why do you want me to leave?"

"Because I can't keep having this conversation. Because I can't keep fighting you to love me. I can't keep exhausting myself trying to make you believe it. I'm tired of trying, Spencer, I'm so damn tired..." I don't think I can breathe as she looks down at her hand on the stick shift, speaking words I've never wanted to hear "...and I don't know what I'm even fighting for anymore. I can't remember what we thought we'd ever get out of this. Honestly, who were we kidding?..." a small shrug of her shoulders as if it's that easy to give this up, to give _me_ up, and I can't stop sobbing. "..this was never gonna work, Spence, we both know that. We had a chance, we both lost it."

"No, no, no..." fumbles from my lips, this is wrong, she's not supposed to say this, she was never supposed to say this "...no this is not it, Ash. What about..." I'm pathetically sputtering "...what about Peanut Butter and Jelly and..." Shaking my head with eyes so firmly shut, wondering if I'll ever open them again, wondering if I'll ever want to without her to look at "...what about not letting me suffocate? Who's gonna help me breathe, Ashley? Who...who's gonna watch out for me? Who's gonna hold my hand? Who..."

I can't go on anymore, I can't. I'm drowning in my own tears, in my own flood, and I know she fights to not hold me. I know she fights to not let me breathe.

I know she fights to say these words.

"I can't anymore, Spence, I just...can't.." One heavy heavy breath leaves her lips, shooting right inside me, weighing down on my every organ "...Maybe..." She bites her lip, as if she doesn't want to say these words, as if she needs to do everything she can to stop herself from saying them "...maybe I'm not supposed to be the one to do that. Maybe I'm not the one for you anymore...maybe I never was."

"I don't believe that. I don't. And you don't either, Ash, I know you don't..." I try and smile the most awful smile of my life, as I practically blubber between my shaking lips "...because you're my peanut and I'm your jelly."

But she still won't look at me, and the air becomes so silent. Silent with denial. With rejection. And it's wearing on me. It's tearing and ripping me. I'm losing my strength. I'm losing my resolve. I'm losing _my_ belief in us. And once I lose that, we lose each other. Because for once, it's only my crumbling faith that holds us together.

Time ticks by, and just like that, it's over. I can't do it anymore. I can't sit inside this painfully silent car anymore.

I was never that strong anyway.

"If you really believe that..." Somehow, my voice comes out tear free, more solid than ever, and I won't look at her, I can't, letting my eyes look nowhere to the side "...if that's how you feel, than you don't know me, you know _nothing_ about me..." I take one last shaky breath, as I open my car door, choking on my last words, "...and I know even less about you."

Shutting her car door, I wrap my arms around my shuddering form, but feel nothing. Walking from her running engine, I weep into the cold December air, but hear not a thing. Heading towards my family filled house, full of their disapproving eyes, I don't see anything.

Feeling so numb. So removed. Watching this scene unfold from a bird's eye view. Floating and careening through the night time sky, as if I were never here. As if this were some other unfortunate souls life.

It's not until I hear Ashley's car skid off, that I finally see my parents standing in the open front door. It's not until I feel Ashley drive off down the road, that I feel my mother's eyes unable to look at me.

It's not until I fully realize how far Ashley is from me, how far she'll always be, that I feel my heart break into a million little pieces.

Because it's only then that I feel my shattered body scream inside my broken apart life again.


	22. Act Three :: The Calm After

People always talk about the calm before the storm. How they never saw it coming. How it ripped right through their life without warning. How they ignored all the signs, because why would they ever even notice them in the first place? Why would they bother to look for clouds and rain when the sun's already shining so bright?

When the sun's blatantly blinding them from any danger?

I wonder why no one ever really mentions the calm after the storm. Why no one speaks of the unsettling peace after all the damage. The unnerving calmness. Rattling silence. The way life just…keeps on going. Plowing and forging straight ahead. Everything looking so unchanged. Making the desperate changes inside yourself all the more apparent. Because time keeps ticking right on by. And you have to hear each click of that cruel clock. Further sinking every difference deeper into your already sinking life. Each second seeping every break and tear inside your bones more and more. So it's all you can feel.

So it's all you can see.

The dust now settled, rain all dried, clouds gone, sun shining on. But this time that happy sun doesn't blind you. No this time, that smiling sun cruelly shines a spotlight over your broken pieces. Displaying all that's left of you and your life. What you've lost. What was once yours. And what you only thought was yours. What might have never been yours to begin with.

"You ok?"

Madison's soft, inviting, voice isn't enough to pull my eyes from her car window. Because her voice sounds just as it's always sounded. Her voice is _that_ calm. _That_ sun.

Madison is _that_ very same light that shone on me mere hours ago. Inside this very car. Before my hopeless hurricane.

"I don't know" Feeling utterly hopeless, I shrug for no reason, "...I don't think so." A quiet honest voice emerges from somewhere so deep and hidden inside my shuddering body. Truth spoken through my trembling mumbling lips, not even sure I've really spoken at all. Teeth chattering, bones shivering, not even sure I'm all that cold.

I'm pretty much positive, inside this sweltering shrinking car, I'm only frozen from Ashley's bitter tire tracks skidding away from me. I'm completely numb from my mother's cold and distant eyes staring at me through the doorway of her house.

Freezing even further, feeling like an intruder standing before a house that was once my only home. And when I tried reaching for her eyes, proving I'm still the daughter she's always known, she only turned and walked away. 

Leaving me with a mother I only used to know.

"Wanna talk about it?"

Madison keeps reaching for me, but this loud loud silence is eating at me. Biting my voice tick for tick. Leaving me with nothing to rehash the sorry tale of Ashley and me. Nothing to repeat every hard word spoken. Only capable of a solemn head shake, biting my lip to keep from crying. Although there's no need to keep from anything. I'm all cried out. My tears have run absolutely dry.

I'm so cold inside, those hot tears are locked deep down in my own bitter water.

So we keep driving instead. Farther and farther in long silence, and I keep my eyes trained out her window. Watching the streaks of snow flying by. Flicking eyes instinctively trying to follow the streams, the trees, as we cruise down those bright familiar streets home.

And the calm is too quiet. Too easy. Too much like life as it was.

So I speak.

"I miss her." Quietly whispered, and while it's true, it's also instinct. It's the knee jerk reaction from a jolt to my heart. And before Madison can say anything, I fully kick into that reaction.

"God, I miss her so much..." Suddenly I've found my voice, worn and weathered, I've found my tremors after the storm. "...Can you believe I already miss her?" My eyes widen with the far from realization, blowing air from my lips like a ferry "...It's been like...what...I don't know..." I practically huff as I look at my wrist for a non-existent watch "...Fifteen minutes?! Seriously, how pathetic and hopeless is that??" I turn to Madison, as if now she needs to be an active participant in what was once a one sided conversation, and once again she's silent.

Once again it unnerves me. Because reality's now coming to life. My broken pieces are filling in. Jagged squares desperately trying to squeeze into perfect circles, I feel what is left of my life in this very moment. And I don't like what I'm feeling.

Not for the fact that my mother walked away. Not for my father having nothing more than _"I love you, Spencer"_ to say.

No, it's Ashley's _"Maybe I'm not that person for you anymore"_ that's not fitting inside my life.

It's that tattered lie that won't work with my reality.

"I have to go to her, Madison..." Shaking my head with urgency "...I have to go there now..." Desperate blue chasing down brown, I turn pleadingly to her "...Please can you just drive me there? Please?"

Madison gapes slowly, sizing the situation, judging without any proper evidence. She doesn't know a thing of what happened. She never heard about the biting and lying words said. No one knows.

No one knows a thing.

Mom made sure of that. Mom was on cruise control. Party patrol. She made sure no one saw her very own family's very own wicked scene dramatically unfolding. She made sure every one was calmly, yet hurriedly, escorted to their cars. Citing some unbelievable excuse.

But it must've been somewhat believable, because by the time I trudged back across my parents front lawn, teary eyed, inwardly bruised and battered, no one was left.

No one.

"Spence..." She breathes, clouds of air swirling in slow motion inside this quiet car, the radio too inappropriate for such a moment "...you sure that's a good idea? Do you think it might be better to give it a little time first? Cool off? Maybe just sleep on it for tonight?"

I sigh because for once she's not saying what I want to hear. And she knows it.

"I know it's hard Spence, like I can't even imagine how hard, but I just don't want you to say or do anything more you might regret. You've both been through a lot tonight."

Just like my former life, without knowing a single thing, Madison knows everything. Somehow, sitting inside her Audi on our street, a world away from Ashley and me, Madison heard everything. And not because she physically heard us. Not because she actually heard the words exchanged between our outraged voices.

No, Madison read every word inside my broken eyes the minute they cried their way inside that same Audi parked outside my parents house.

Because Madison know those eyes, no matter how much damage has been done to them.

"Madison, I can't leave it the way it was, I have to make it better. I have to take it back. I know-" My breath suddenly hitches and hitches, trying to harness an internal hurricane, "...I can't, you don't know what we...what I said...I need..."

"Spence, Spence..." A solid comforting hand softly sits on my shoulder, as if to further explain her next words "...breathe, babe, breathe..." because she sees me trying to articulate the impossible, sees me trying to articulate emotions far too overwhelming for measly words, "...how bout we just get home, k? First things first, let's just focus on that."

She laughs lightly, clearly trying to distract me, but it's barely working. I'm nowhere near distracted. I'm not sure anything could keep me from wanting to sprint to Ashley tonight.

And I'm positive nothing will.

"You know it's gonna be ok, Spence, right?" I chance a glimpse her way, to see if she really means it. Finding her with one definitive head nod, shaky hands at ten and two, eyes scanning the road before us, probably watching the same flakes of snow smacking and dissolving into our windshield "...It's gonna be ok."

Back to staring out my window, gnawing on my bottom lip once more, I'm not sure I've found enough reassurance inside that glimpse. I'm not so sure about anything as I watch peaceful flakes of white white snow dance it's way to the ground. Ready to melt into oblivion.

"No..." One deep breath pushed from my lips "...I don't think it is Maddy."

For the first time Madison doesn't say anything to that.

And for once, we ride the rest of the easy way home in hard silence.

"Home sweet home..." Madison hasn't even shifted the car in park yet and I'm already opening my door.

"I'm going over there."

"Spence-"

"No Maddy-" I stand in the shivering cold outside her safe warm car, letting snow fall onto my eyelashes "...I'm sorry, but this time I have to listen to myself. I love you and love that you always look out for me and that you're always right..." I give her a pointed look "...but I have to do this. I just can't leave things-"

"Spence-"

"No, Please, Maddy-"

"God, will you shut up already?"

I sigh, not happy with the delay, or for hearing more words I wish not to hear "What?"

She looks at me, one might say craftily, and I swear I see a smirk forming as she nods the slightest bit in front of her.

"You might wanna see who your visitor is first."

Suddenly I can breathe easy. I can see my life as it should be. Without that bright sun. Without that too warm heat.

Because right there, through a blanket of wet cold snow, I finally see Ashley.

And right there, in the midst of my unnerving calm, I've finally found _my_ comforting storm.


	23. Needing Too Much

Madison mumbles some meaningless excuse for why she's hightailing it but I don't hear her. I don't hear a word. I'm so far from listening, she could be halfway to California by now, and I'd never know. My vision is focused anywhere but behind me. My ears and eyes are fixed straight ahead. Trained on those beautifully broken brown eyes. Entranced by those warm shivering lips. Completely enveloped in the sight of a lost looking Ashley before me. Her wet and flushed face never looking more vulnerable, or more beautiful, and before I even realize it, I'm making my slow shuffled steps right in her direction.

It takes an eternity to reach her, and in that eternity the snow turned to rain, draping us both in a cold heavy wet blanket. But for some reason, we don't run for the door, or even for each other. We both only wait for my shuffled steps to move faster. For my body to reach hers. And Ashley remains straight where she is, hugged to herself, right in front of her huge SUV. Shrinking her shuddering and hunched form even more.

"You're here." Breathes from my shaking lips, still taken aback by her presence. For some reason, still not able able to actually believe she's really here when I need her so badly. How she's always here. And tonight, this time, for the first time, she has trouble looking at me. Flicking eyes look in every direction. Squinting eyes finally move from the ground to my unmoving ones, speaking not a word, and I can tell she tries so hard to not cry anymore than she already is.

And it breaks my already selfish breaking heart more than ever.

I take the last steps towards her, as if this dusty path between us will never go away, as if _we'll_ never lose our way. Because I could find her in my sleep. I'd know exactly where she was in the deepest dark. Even if I were blind.

Our stomachs lightly bump together as I finally make contact, sending shivers straight down my spine from the touch. Having nothing to do with the bitter air swirling around us, mixing in with such cold rain. She shakes her head, biting her lip, and I don't even realize my fingers are wisping against her cheek until I actually see them there. Until I feel her leaning into my touch, eyes never leaving mine now. Focused so hard inside me.

"I'm sorry." Croaks from both our regretful mouths, and I can't let her say it again.

"No, Ashley..." I lean even closer, moving both hands to cup her chilled face in my hands, not even wondering why we're still freezing out here instead of freezing inside there. But these words can not remain unsaid any longer. Looking her straight in the eyes, heavy rain dropping over her eyelashes, I whisper so sincerely and so seriously "...I'm the one who's sorry."

And she shakes her head, not allowing it, but that's not how this is gonna go. This is not a time where she's gonna make ME feel better. Like she always does. No, this time this is all about her, and as my lips bravely find their way to her cheeks, softly kissing away any tears, instinctively knowing which drops belong to her and not the dark sky, she swallows harder and harder. Her tears have never tasted more salty, or heartbreaking, and I can feel my own eyes watering because of it. Because of the way her hands reach behind me, gripping and twisting the thick material of my winter coat.

Pulling me so close, I've never felt more inside her.

Tasting her desperation, I've never felt more outside either.

Pausing my clean up kisses, my lips hover directly over her lips, as if they were a shield. An umbrella from the storm, and suddenly I feel more than hear her low whimpers shaking against me. I feel just how much she depends on me in this moment, forehead resting against mine so strongly. And as her breaths stutter inside my mouth, I know it's time for this to move elsewhere. It's time for me to grip her hands, hold her for once, and whisper directly into her mouth, hoping it reaches her heart.

"I love you, Ashley. I love you so so much. You have me, ok? You have all of me and you always will."

She still doesn't say anything, but this time, it's ok. This time I'm not gonna let any defensive or insecure words break this moment. Break my honesty. Leaning even further into her, pulling our hands between us, between our panting chests, feeling her fall apart inside them, I whisper against her lips. 

"Come inside with me." I whisper permission for something I've never asked it for. Never needing to. And without an answer, she grants me it.

Squeezing my hands impossibly tighter, as if they were her life line, she nods against me, following me inside.

-----------

The apartment lives in pitch black, reminding me of the simple moments before Madison and I last left it. Before the party. Before all that broke in my life.

We shuffle through the living room, not even bothering with any of the lights. Silently making our way to what was once our only sanctuary. Our safest safe haven. Our tiny perfect world built for the two of us.

Shadows of our twisted tied forms still imprinted between the bed sheets of my never ending bed.

And I think I feel those forms already slowly disappearing. Dissipating. As if they'll never fill such warm and loved molds again.

Setting a soaked and shaking Ashley down on that same world of a bed, I move to the closet to get a towel, hitting the light switch on the way back. Finding her slouched over like a lost wounded puppy at the end of my bed. She looks so scared in a place I've only seen her so brave, that it kind of disturbs me. It rattles me to see such a strong person in such a weak place.

And it's surprising how much stronger a weak person becomes because of it.

It's both frightening and empowering how much stronger _I've_ become because of it.

Walking with weird hesitancy, trepidation I haven't felt in what feels like forever, I kneel down to the floor. My body fitting perfectly between her knees, allowing my body to now fit against hers tightly. Stapling us so so close together. But she still won't look at me. Hanging her head low, she keeps those easy eyes on her hands, and while it would normally worry me for selfish reasons, it only worries me for her. Because she's not alright. Because I now realize she's more lost and hurt than me. And I've never felt more unselfish in my life. I've never needed to put someone else before myself in such a desperate way.

So I put her so far ahead of me, I don't even care if I lose her because of it. I don't even care if my actions might scare her, because she needs me more. She needs what she may not want, and I'm going to give it to her.

My hands move to her face on their own accord, towel drying her wet face. Letting my soft thumbs roll over each patch of newly dried skin. Christening and blessing it. Making my love for her known with each new delicate touch.

And she still won't look at me.

Placing the towel on the bed beside her, I undo the buttons of her coat with newfound fright. But she'd never know it. She'd never know my weakness with the masked strength inside my touch. The jacket is so heavy, a symbol of the burden we've both tacked onto each other from this miserable night, and as I throw it to the ground, I wish so badly for it to lift any weight holding her down.

"Spence..."

She whispers into the air, and it pulls my eyes away from the ground to her, allowing our weepy eyes to finally lock. Looking at each other in such a strange way. Like we can't believe we've ended up here. No matter how hard we tried to leave. No matter how hard we tried to remain mad. Doing everything we could to run away from this. But just like every other time, we only ended up running to each other.

And for once, I'm not sure if we're both relieved about that.

Looking into each others eyes like two lost little girls. So unsure of what this world has in store for us. What this world has already given us. For what we've already given and stolen from each other.

And then she finally becomes the Ashley I've known for as long as I can remember. Wrapping her arms around my neck, pulling my body straight against hers, she becomes _my_ Ashley.

"I'm sorry Spence." She whispers into my neck, voice breaking and tearing in such a grating way, that I feel myself hiccup a repressed sob. "...I'm so sorry."

She continues holding me closer, enveloping me in her touch, and I refuse to let her do that. I refuse to let her take the blame for something that is really all mine. "...Please don't do that, Ashley." My voice becomes so small, swallowed and kidnapped from my held in tears, "...Please don't say that. You have nothing to apologize for."

Feeling her head shake against me, she leans back, tears welling up in her eyes and I can't read them. I can't see her thoughts in those water filled eyes. Through such clarity, I've never been more lost.

And it's more than frightening.

"No Spence, you don't understand-"

But I don't let her finish. I can't let her finish. Something about that 'No Spence' sounds more scary than the scariest horror film. Because it's real. Because it's not masked in anything but truth. And I know, I just know that that truth is not something I want to hear.

So I cut her off. My fright pushes my lips against hers. Covering and coating her unwanted words. Holding them captive inside my mouth. Locking them away, hiding them, as if it could keep her from ever saying them. As if I'd never have to hear them.

As if it could make us both forget everything.

And she doesn't seem to mind the distraction, the interruption, the cheap ploy at procrastination. My see through plan to keep hard words from being said. Desperately searching for a world that lives inside the bed behind us. Feebly attempting to squeeze those forms back inside those shapes that are slowly caving in.

We're both trying, because we both keep kissing. Searching over every inch of our slippery lips. She's so wet and cold under my hands, not like she normally is, and it all feels so wrong. The water dripping from both of us, creating puddles of these heavy memories down to my carpeted floor. Dripping down to my white blanket, turning it gray. Seeping inside the warm threads, so I will never forget. The hard water forever living beneath us.

Beneath me.

Pulling my wet lips away from hers, I let my ragged and jaded breaths spit out against her mouth. And we both can't look at each other this time. This time she merely pulls off _my_ coat, sending it to the floor in the same way I just did with hers. And I realize how silly it was for me to believe stripping her could lift any weight.

Because with our jackets piled together on the floor behind me, I've never felt more held down.

"Come 'ere" Practically growls in such a sad way from her mouth, feeling it brush all over my skin, and it makes me realize just how _wrong_ this is. How we should not be doing this. Because I know we're about to have sex. I know we're about to feel each other so we don't have to feel anything else.

We're going to strip ourselves of everything, leaving us so bare and simple. Because we're both foolish enough to believe it could strip us of every bad word. Every bad move.

We're both silly enough to believe in _our_ world instead of the real world.

And I'm still so lost inside her that I don't stop myself from going to her. From crashing our hungry and mindless lips together. We lean so far into each other, that we might as well forge together as one human being. Not even feeling my knees going numb. Not even noticing how painful the hard ground is against them. Only feeling her truthful words rolling against my tongue, stroke for stroke. Only feeling her hands pulling and tugging at my shirt, never fully taking it off. Continually exposing my cold skin to the cold air, tug for tug. Taunting and teasing me, she asks for permission in a way that's not really asking, but really giving me more time to stop her.

And it's kind of unfair in a way that could never bother me, because we both know I'd never stop her.

Because we both know she'd never want me to either.

So it doesn't surprise either of us when I pull away. When I rip that shirt off all on my own. Leaving my bare breasts out in that cold bitter air. Leaving them to be pressed against her wet shirt, as she reaches around me, desperate hands chasing my body again. Holding me so close to her once more, she only waits to kiss me. She only lets her lips breathe over me as we cry together. As we neglect the reason we're actually crying.

We're fully ignoring just how heartbreaking this all feels. How we both know there's no going back from this. Both knowing we shouldn't try living inside that between the sheets world tonight. Knowing that if we try breaking inside there too soon, we might break it forever.

We might break it so hard we'd leave it shredded and shattered beyond repair. But as I push my body into hers, not able to stand the tease and wait any longer, I know I don't care.

I know I'm still that same foolish girl I've always been.

And so is she.

Slowly we slide up that lost bed, together, with hands that fumble over each other like two virgins. With trembling bodies slipping and moving together like strangers. And while that fact should sever my heart, it doesn't.

It doesn't even stint those foreign bodies from driving towards a place belonging solely to two other distant and lost girls.

Reaching the pillows, I lean back from her lips and look into her eyes. Seeing her looking as hungry as I feel. Already lost in our arousal to turn back. Already lost in the comfort of our far away world to stop. So when I slide my hand down to her shirt, I don't even ask permission to relieve her of it. Because she's already panting and pleading "please" into the dry air. Because the seconds it takes for me to answer that plea have never passed faster, and before I know it we're both bare and topless together. Feeling her breasts against mine as I kiss her lips so deeply. Not even bothering to use my tongue. Not even wanting to. Just needing to feel her so innocently.

Just needing to feel those two lips inside mine in the most simple way.

Needing to follow another dusty trail away from her mouth, down her neck. Sucking each spot I've grown to understand more than any subject inside this crazy life. Learning her every sensitive spot as if it belonged to me. As if I were feeling it just as strongly. Reading her body so incredibly well, better and faster than the best book, I know just where to go next.

And so does she.

Hands burying further through my hair, she doesn't even need to guide me anymore. She trusts my every move, my every direction, my every word whispered inside her skin. She trusts me more than anything.

And it's sad the way sex makes us easily forget just how easily distrusting we were only a little while ago.

But we're not thinking about that.

We're not thinking at all as my lips search for a world they'll never find, slipping and sliding down the straight line of her body. As Ashley moans into the air, chanting my name in such a desperate way, I could never stop from giving her all that she needs.

Still believing in all my selfish ways, that I'm giving her everything she needs instead of what I need.

-----------

The rain still splashes over the dark windows of my room, and somehow it's not as comforting as it once was. Our naked bodies live a lifetime away from each other on top of my bed, above the blankets. As if this bed knew these strangers weren't allowed inside the place where those old girls lived.

Or maybe those girls, hidden somewhere deep within ourselves, were the ones to know.

"Spence..."

Finally Ashley's voice slices into the silent air. And I don't even have to hear what she's gonna say to already feel the words. Body lying flat on my back, an exact reflection of her own, sweat sheening from both our chests, I whisper right back.

"This is it, isn't it..." Turning my face slightly, I speak so softly,wondering if she can even hear me over the rain taunting us from outside. "...this is it."

The rain can't hide the swallowed lump caught in her throat, as she answers in a voice thick with tears "I don't want it to be."

She picks up on the music room memory I threw ourselves in. From that foolish night where we both believed we'd be ok. Where we both thought that by coming clean, and telling the truth, we could be together.

When we still never thought about what always held us back in the first place.

When we both ignored the fear of not getting caught, but the fear of actually being together.

"I don't want it to be either." I can't help muttering, still not wanting to believe it. Still not believing it, period. Because to be honest, I'm not ignoring that fear any more. To be honest, I don't care about the fear. Not as much as I care about her. Not as much as I need and want to be with her.

"It has to be, Spencer."

But Ashley's still afraid. Ashley's still so afraid, that it makes me wonder if I've ever really fully seen her at all.

"But..." I hopelessly stutter, looking up to the ceiling, eyes training to the side as they fill with more water than they're used to "...but why?"

"You know why Spencer."

Breathes beside me, in a completely troubled way, and for the first time since our hopeless sex, I turn to face her.

"No. I. Don't." Grits between my clenched teeth, hoping to keep from crying as badly as I need to, my voice escalating further and further with every word "...I just don't get it. Ashley. I know you love me. I love you. What we have is better than anything I've never had. Why do you want to run from that?? Why do you want to run from me??" I squint so painfully into her eyes, that I don't even know if I can keep looking at her "..._How_ can you?"

She takes such a deep breath, with eyes that look like they actually hurt to look at me, that I wonder how much longer I can actually look at her.

I wonder if I'll recover from what I know is eventually going to happen.

"Your family-"

"Fuck my family. Ok?" I'm speaking nonsense that's never made more sense in my poor little heart, that's never actually been more true "...You are my family Ashley. You are my everything. I love my parents, I love Clay, I don't hate Glen..." I try to laugh, but it only comes out as a pathetic dribble draped inside my little girl cries "...but they don't make me smile like you. They can't make me forget how bad life can be sometimes. They're not the ones-"

"That is exactly my point Spencer." She cuts me off, leaving my mouth to open and close in complete confusion "...we are so unbelievably dependent on each other that it scares me..." She takes another deep breath, eyes focusing straight down on the blanket between us as if what she's about to say is just too much, "..._I_ am so incredibly dependent on _you_ that it terrifies _me_..." letting out a breath that seems like she's been holding for years, she speaks more relieved than ever "...And I can't live that way. I can't need someone so badly that without them, I wonder if I'll be able to breathe. I wonder if I'll even know how."

A pregnant pause fills the thickening and widening space between us, even though we haven't moved an inch, and I don't say anything this time.

"I love you so so much Spencer..." Finally she looks into my eyes again, unfaltering, and I wonder if _I_ know how to breathe "...but I need you too much."

"I need you too."

I whisper unnecessary and pointless words through choking lips, and I think they might have broken her heart. I think they might have shattered my own, because her hand fumbles for my cheek. Her fingers wipe away tracks of tears that will only grow wet again, but it doesn't matter. She keeps wiping away as she kisses my salty lips.

"I know you do, Jelly." Her shaky voice shakes inside me, and I don't want it. I wish it were far from me. Because it only makes me more sad.

We remain there just like that, my wet and wobbling face held in her too strong hands. Just waiting for the inevitable. Just waiting for what we both knew was coming long before we forced our ways inside this unwelcoming bed.

"I better go."

She says it. She says the dreaded words I think I may have been dreading my entire life. And I think I shrink even further inside myself, curling away from her suddenly too close face. Giving her a barely there nod, I feel myself closing off and shutting in.

And she notices. Going in for what we both know is a last kiss, she understands. She knows better, and derails for my ear. Lightly pressing her too good and not wanted lips below it. Remaining there, so close to my unfitting body, trying so hard to mold to it like she's still allowed to or something.

And I already feel just how bitter I'm becoming. I already know how frozen I'll be when I wake up in the morning.

Without her.

"You're gonna be ok, Spence."

Whispers inside my ear, but I barely listen. I just remain still against her, and she knows how far away I'm pulling myself. She knows how badly I need to go where I'm going. And I know how badly she fights to let me actually go there.

"And this isn't goodbye."

Once more, she says all the right things that I can't hear, so I say nothing. I give her my best silent treatment, knowing it probably hurts her more than I even realize. But how could I? How could I when I barely realize how much she's hurt _me_? How could I realize anything when I don't even understand it?

But before I can over think anything more inside my too tired brain, she's picking her naked body up from this bed, and I don't even watch her. I _can't_. No matter how badly I want to see her. No matter how badly I wish to mentally photograph her.

I just can't bring my weak eyes to watch her leave me.

By the time she dresses herself inside the awkward and uncomfortable silence, my breathing is so shallow, it's dangerously close to drying and dissolving away completely. Somehow I notice she's made her way to my door, and as she opens it, she doesn't even turn to look at me, as she says more clearly than anything on this night.

"I love you, Spencer."

And before I can tell her every single word needing to burst from my sinking heart. Before I can utter every needy word to convince her to stay. Every honest word inside of me that knows this is all bullshit. That knows this shouldn't be goodbye.

That knows needing someone is never a reason to leave them.

It's too late.

She's already gone.

She's already making her way out into the storm once more.

Alone.

And I'm left here inside our world.

More alone than ever.


	24. Pretending Months

_It's strange the way life pans out sometimes. Most times, really. The twists and turns you find yourself on. The roads you never imagined, driving you to destinations you never even knew existed. But they do exist, and maybe you always knew it. Or maybe you never saw them coming. Maybe they completely sidelined you, tackling your hopeless body to the ground._

_It doesn't really matter how you found them, because all that matters is that one day, you will find them. No matter what. And one day those very places will become your very own existence. They will dwell themselves inside you. So far, and so deep. Those twists and turns, they will change you. Ringing, bending, and possibly breaking you into a person you never imagined._

_And maybe that's the real destination. Maybe it's not about how you got there._

_But about the person you became along the way._

_These are the things I'm slowly learning. In a twisted, sometimes cruel, but mostly beautiful, life, these are the things I've come to know. These are the things I've come to learn, sometimes kicking and screaming. Sometimes not._

_Life is not always what you make it. What you think it is. It's not what it always seems. Things don't always go the way you think. The way you want. The way you desperately need them to. And maybe...just maybe, that's the blessing. Maybe that's what makes life...life. The moments that surprise you._

_That one morning when you wake up and everything's ok. When things aren't as bad as they once were._

_That one day where your best friend says something so random and so not funny, and suddenly you find yourself laughing. You find yourself laughing in the least manufactured and most genuine way. And it makes that best friend smile their surprised eyes your way, looking at you so warmly, as if they're finally seeing you again. Finally seeing you for the first time in years. Like their eyes are actually shouting 'thank god you're back.'_

_And you feel the relief pouring from them. You feel that same relief spilling inside yourself._

_Because that's the moment you realize you are back. You're finally really back. And you're so damn thankful for it. After sleeping for months, you're finally awake and you're finally alive._

_And suddenly, life isn't so bad anymore. Suddenly life is just like it always was. Just how you always thought it should be._

_It's taken months for me to get to this place. Six months later, this is where I've ended up._

_After twisting and turning and bending and sometimes breaking, this is the person I've become..._

"Go, Go, Go!! Keep on running, Linds! You got it!" Leaping from my seat like lightening, I forcefully pump my fist into the air, continuing to scream like an idiot. Screaming until a stern hand tries to pull me back down.

"Get down here, Spence, you're starting to embarrass..." Aiden stops shortly to survey the rest of the bleachers, "...Me. And them. And that creepy guy over there..." Aiden points to a random guy beneath a tree, who does in fact look kind of creepy "...and your entire family. I swear third cousins are starting to phone in with their complaints."

Looking down on a smirking Aiden, I can't help but laugh. Staring at him with some form of fascination. Because really, when did Aiden become so funny?

"Whatever, loser, you just don't have any kind of spirit." Smiling in what I know is my typical laid back fashion, I fall back down to my seat. Looking back on the tee ball game before me. Watching my favorite, one and only, niece ruling the field.

"You say that as if it's a bad thing...And I think Kyla's lost." Aiden's amused voice laughs beside me, but I keep my eyes trained on the field. Far more concerned with the game than where his new girlfriend is. Don't get me wrong, I like her. I like her a lot actually. She's a good fit for him. She can hold her own.

But sometimes, just sometimes, her brown eyes and her brown hair remind me of another life. Of another brown that she could never come close to painting.

"Where'd she go again?" I mumble mindlessly, vaguely interested, and like that, I flash back to this life. I live inside this world, where the brown isn't as bright. Where the brown no longer reminds. And that's alright.

Because finally I don't remember. Not really, anyway.

"To get a hot dog." I catch his eyes crawling all over this little league park, scanning for his faded brunette.

"Are you serious?? She's actually getting another one?!" Having caught my full fledged attention, I turn my wide laughing eyes toward him, continuing to exclaim through disbelieving giggles "...Does that girl ever stop eating?"

"Nope, and I love her for it!" Through a smile, Aiden answers with so much pride, that I almost want to hug him for his adorable sincerity. For his lack of pervyness.

For the new life he lives.

"Hey sweetie..." Suddenly my fathers comforting hand rests on my shoulder, drawing me from Aiden and his food obsessed girlfriend, and I don't mind the distraction "...how's the exhibit coming along?"

Smiling shyly, I take a minute to process the question. To process the reality of my photos actually being put on display at the biggest art gallery in town. And as I practically whisper an answer, I can't stop my small smile from growing.

"Good." Nodding affirmatively, my pride overrides any bashfulness and I finally find my voice, "...Really good. I'm basically all set up. I still can't believe they actually want to show my work. I'm still kinda waiting for them to change their minds."

My eyes squint towards him, as if it were because of the sun, but he knows me better than that. And as I laugh nervously, with some insecurity, he smiles in a way that always makes me feel better. In a way that's gotten me through many hard months. That's pulled me through these past forever months.

"Are you kidding me, Spence? They're lucky to have you!" Through aging laughter, his twinkling eyes look to the field for a moment, "...And we're so proud of you, Spence, your mother and me, we can't wait to see it. The opening's next week, right?"

Looking there with him, I only nod in agreement.

"Well your mother and I will be there front and center. We can't wait. Isn't that right, Paula?"

Immediately, my body stiffens all on it's own. Instinctively, my uptight body sits completely upright, despite my greatest efforts to remain calm.

Because her relaxed body, sitting right in front of mine, doesn't even turn around. Because her eyes make no moves to meet mine. Because as she breezes a "Sure, sweetie" without even a second glance, I wonder if she even knows what we're talking about. I wonder if she even cares enough to know. I wonder when she stopped listening.

I wonder If she was ever really listening to begin with.

And I wonder why I still care.

It's been months since my mother's looked at me, and I'm still getting used to it. It's still a long road to recovery. Especially when I don't even know if I want to keep walking along this road. If I want to keep trudging along this hot black pavement. With a sun on my back that never lets up. With cars that whiz past me, hardly offering any kind of help.

Because I don't know if my mother's really upset about my relationship with another girl. I'm not sure if my mother's even upset about what I did to my brother.

No. I think my mother's upset about what I did to her. To her perfect yacht club life. Because of that fateful birthday party I ruined and destroyed so long ago. The ripples and repercussions of it still causing countless snobby mouths to whisper behind her back. Resulting in worthless people to shut her out from their meaningless lives.

And I think my mother only cares about those people. I think she only worries over what they think instead of worrying about the pain living inside her very own baby girl's strengthening heart. And that's what makes looking into her eyes so hard.

That's something that makes life not quite what it once was.

Because that little girl's worked through her pain all on her own. Without her mother. Without the woman who used to kiss away every cut and bruise. Taking away any hurt.

"When's Glen coming home again?"

Clay asks into the peaceful air, looking towards our mother beside him, and I can't help but cringe. I can't help but feel the air that was once so light turn into thick bricks inside my chest. Because six months later, I finally feel the guilt I should have felt years ago. Because today my brother lives hours away in New York City, playing for a new basketball team while playing with a new girlfriend. And whether it's because of my stubborn pride, or his, we still haven't talked. We haven't uttered a single word.

And surprisingly, I'm ok with that. Somehow, I know we both are. Somehow, I know that the day we see each other again we'll be able to look into each others eyes. We'll look and not turn away. And we'll be ok.

"Two weeks." My mother smiles towards Clay, blatantly proving how far she's pulled herself from me. Proving what side she's pretending to be on, because I know the truth. I know the only side she believes in is her own. And it's so sad to realize that. Because it feels like I'm finally seeing her. The person she actually is, instead of the mother she's been.

And it's surreal when you see just how human your parents actually are. It's both freeing and frightening, when you realize you never want to become one of them.

And maybe that's why I kind of don't care if she ever forgives me or not.

Maybe that's why I don't need to see her eyes ever again.

Six months later, and maybe I'm the one still pretending.

-------------

Friends plays comfortingly in the background of the living room, as I scribble away at the Times crossword puzzle. Like I do every Sunday. Filling in practically every answer but those regarding music. Which I'm not used to. Because it wasn't so long ago that I filled in these puzzles with another pair of dark eyes. Along side another beautiful mind made up of so much music.

But, really, it was that long ago. And today, months later, those empty music boxes don't look so empty.

Taking a bite from my sandwich, my eyes go back to the TV. Immediately laughing at something Phoebe said, because even though I've heard it a thousand times before, it'll always make me laugh.

The night grows darker and darker, and I can feel the daylight sun settling into my skin. Wondering why the park always seems to deepen the burn.

"Peanut Butter and Jelly's again? You're kind of freaking me out with those, Spencer."

Karen surprises me as she walks over, never hearing her enter the apartment in the first place, as she plops herself down beside me on the couch. And for a little girl, she must carry a lot of baggage, because I swear I feel like I'm sinking to the floor with her weight.

"Ugh. Friends. This show is so overrated." Karen's voice sounds more shrilly than it probably is. And as she grabs the remote, flicking through the channels, I realize that maybe it has nothing to do with her non existent weight, or her perfect voice.

Maybe I just don't like her.

Maybe I wish it were Madison who still lived with me, instead of this stranger cum roommate.

"I was watching that, you know?" I ask with pointlessness, because this is how it always goes. Because life inside this apartment is so different ever since Madison made a move I always knew she'd make. Ever since Madison sadly left our comfortable life between these walls to share a life with Jack between _his_ walls, _my_ life inside _my_ walls hasn't been as comfortable.

"Yeah, but Seinfeld is so much better." Karen says with not an ounce of attention meant for me, and I miss Madison more than ever. As that inane theme music plays, I can't take it any more, snatching the remote from her grubby perfect hands.

"Well, too bad, I was here first." I say with a smile, hoping my lack of like for her doesn't show too much. Hoping I can pull off playfulness.

But as Karen leaves me, with a grunt, I realize I don't really care. Because finally I have the room all to myself again. Finally I'm left by my lonesome to munch away on my PB & J, and watch my shows in peaceful silence. And as I fumble hopelessly through channel after channel, looking for Friends, I can't help but deeply sigh. Because I can never find it, and that much hasn't changed. Because the person who always used to help me find it has changed. That person is in another life time. That much _has_ changed.

And maybe it's not really Karen that gets me so worked up.

Maybe it's not Madison I'm utterly missing.

Maybe it's another shade of brown that leaves my world a little darker. Maybe these empty music boxes are more empty than I know.

Maybe I'm pretending more than I realize.

-------------

Getting ready for bed, drying my face, strolling back into my peaceful room, I suddenly jump ten feet into the air as an obnoxious ring tone blares from my phone. Settling the instant I hear it further, knowing exactly who it is, I answer with a smile and a roll of the eyes.

"Ok, Maddie, you really need to get over me, because this obsessive calling thing you've got going on is getting out of hand..." Snorting lightly with laughter, I smile warmly "...Yeah, yeah, I got your message earlier. Wednesday night at Water Street sounds perfect to me, I'll be there with my most daaashing smile..." Shuffling towards my dresser, I move around objects for no reason, never able to stand still, "...yeah the game was alright. Lindsay's team won, so that was great.." Biting my lip, I twirl around my perfume bottle, before scrunching my face in confusion "...Huh? What do you mean what did I wear?" Pulling open my drawer, I continue dribbling with laughter "...Seriously, what is your obsession with asking me that? What are you? A 900 number? If this continues I'm gonna start having serious doubts about your platonic interest in me..." My light hearted chuckling dies down as I slowly stare into my open drawer "...yeah, yeah, listen I gotta go. Early bird gets the worm and all that..." My eyes glaze and fade as they focus deep into the dark confines of my dresser, mumbling some goodbye to Madison. I shut my phone absentmindedly, not even sure she's finished talking.

Because no matter how much I love her, I just can't hear her voice right now.

Because I'm already far far away from that breathing world. Staring down into my drawer, seeing the same sight I see every night, I'm flashing back. I'm dropping behind. And it causes the same reaction inside me as every other time. It starts the same breaking of my reality. Dawning the same realization that there's more than just one long road to recovery for me and my life. And this road is so much more twisted and dark than the one named after my mother.

This street wears a bigger name, and it carries a sense of memory that I could never forget.

No matter how much I pretend.

Frightened fingers practically tremble their way beneath socks and other top drawer items. So scared to find what they search for. Desperately longing for what they look to hold once again. Sighing the minute I find it. The minute I find my hidden black and white world. The only world that lives outside of color in my life. This world, this road, lives inside a 3 x 5 print. A fading, and somewhat crumbled photo of her.

My bright and shining brunette.

The memory that just won't fade.

No matter how much I want it to.

Well...only on some days.

It was taken the morning of Lindsay's birthday party. The morning of disaster. The morning that spiraled me into messy months. The morning that brought me here, into a life that is starting to fulfill once again. But will never fully fill the way it was beginning to on that very morning.

My fingers trace over the veins in the careless cracks I'm to blame for. The cracks for my need to hide her away. As if it could keep me from looking. As if I'll forget as long as she remains below my bras and underwear. As if they're a strong enough barrier to keep me away from my only tie to her. But they never stopped our connection in the past, and they certainly don't now. They do nothing to stop anything.

I can already feel the hint of forgotten tears burning in my eyes, but I push them away. Like I always do. Settling the picture back into the black, like I'll somehow forget it was ever there.

And as I walk my suddenly very tired body with such heavy steps over to my bed, sliding beneath a dark red comforter, I find myself reaching my for my phone.

Doing what I do every Sunday.

Like always, it rings and rings, and it's strange how comforting a ringing phone is when you know no one is going to pick it up. When you know you only need to rely on yourself for the words exchanged. When you become so used to speaking to a voicemail with her voice, that some times, some nights, like tonight, you _almost_ forget it's _your_ voice she'll eventually hear.

"Hey Ashley. It's me...again." Breathing more heavily than I intended, and I already regret calling. Just like every Sunday, I contemplate hanging up right then and there. And just like every Sunday, I keep talking, because I could never stop these phone calls. And at least I'm smart enough to know I can't pretend anything about that.

"...I just wanted to check in. Tell you about the week..." my fingers fumble with my new soft comforter, as my eyes widen with a new topic "...Lindsay won her game today! If you were curious. I mean, if you even listen to these messages at all..." I whisper that last part, suddenly feeling kind of foolish, but it's not enough to stop me from rambling, because no matter where my life's gone in the past few months, that much hasn't changed "...and Aiden's garbage compactor of a girlfriend was there..." I laugh lightly, before talking more freely, more comfortably "...She's actually pretty cool. Kinda shy, but I like her. I think you would too. At least, Aiden seems to really like her and I guess that's all that matters..."

My eyes train over to the open window, a breeze blowing through that does nothing to lift the cool summer night air.

"...I miss you..." breathes from my lips, and it doesn't really surprise me anymore how easily that happens. How mindlessly those words leave my independent heart. How easily that heart speaks without informing my pretending mind. "...I miss you, and I think about you all the time, and I guess that's just never gonna go away. But it's ok, cause I guess I'm starting to live with it." I laugh, but it doesn't come out all that light or funny and it's at this moment that I'm so very thankful for the fact that this is a message, forgetting the minor detail that it's a message she'll eventually hear.

"..I really don't know what you're up to out there. Last I heard you were in Cleveland, but that was a few weeks back. And I'm not so sure about the source..." I roll my eyes, thinking of my shadow of a mother "...but maybe someday...I don't know..." biting my lip, I close my eyes, as if it would make saying what I'm not thinking easier, "...some day maybe you could call me back, Pea-" I stop myself, maybe not in time, but just in time to not repeat a memory that really shouldn't breathe again, at least not now "...but yeah, anyway, I should probably go to bed. I've got a big day tomorrow..." Even I know how cheap and fleeting and scared my runaway voice is, but it doesn't matter, I've finally woken up to the fact I'm actually leaving her a voicemail, and that's enough to make any fool like myself run as fast as they possibly can.

"I, uh, hope you're sleeping well. If you're even sleeping. And...please..." My voice drifts away into the most sincere whisper I've mustered all week "...please take care of yourself, Ashley..." One last deep breath, "...goodnight."

And as I slide my phone to my bed side table, alarm already set and ready, I roll back onto my back. Watching the cracks in the ceiling that the moon makes. Watching them as I feel my broken reality piecing back together. As I feel the burn of forgotten tears fading. As the night ticks on and on, sending minute after minute to pass me by.

And just like every other Sunday, life slowly returns to the way it is, instead of reaching and stretching for what it once was. With my eyes shutting, sleep tugging at my mind, I remember that there are no empty boxes. There are no dull browns. I forget everything that lives in top drawers and in black & white. Forgetting that these walls aren't as comfortable as they once were. Forgetting that my life isn't as full as it used to be beneath these very bed sheets.

Because just like every other night, I always find my way back to that pretending road.

But every night that road only becomes brighter.

And it only makes believing easier.


	25. Shifting Gears

Life's slowing down these days. This I know. This I feel. A little more every day. Tired gears are down shifting. Settling themselves into an easier rhythm. A steady pace. Temporary cruise control. Ready to take a break. Ready to just sit back, and take in everything as it comes. Instead of trying to figure it all out before I even get there. Before there's even anything to figure out.

Because my life is untying itself. Unraveling such twisted knots. It's simplifying. It's returning to the way it once was. So long ago. Before the days of regret and guilt. Before the days of neglect and carelessness.

Before the day I accidentally strolled inside the wrong coffee house.

"So..." Aiden leans over in our booth, voice soft and sincere "...are you having a good birthday, Spence?"

Crooked smile, eyes more tired than drunk, I turn my lazy lips towards the sky "Yeah..." Slowly moving my body to face his, "...yeah, I am."

"Good." He smiles that same fifteen year old smile that's never left him, and it makes me more happy than I remember, "...I'm glad."

And I'm glad too. Because it's the truth. This _has_ been a good birthday. Everything about this Wednesday has been everything I've wanted for it. Starting with my fathers 4:04 am wake up call. A tradition he's always upheld. The only ringing alarm I'll never mind. Because every year, on my birthday, at the exact second I was born, my father calls to wish me happiness. Because my father always has to be the first.

Because he wishes it more than anyone.

Work was business as usual. Except for the smiles. They were bigger today. Truer. So were the greetings. More warm. More giving than the usual good mornings. Genuine conversation flowed from those who usually only wanted something from me. It was nice. It was refreshing. And towards the end of the day, they got me a cake. A strawberry one. It was pretty and thoughtful and even though they do it for every other employee on their birthday, it made me feel kinda special. Even though I hate strawberry cake, I ate my slice through a smile.

Because I'm realizing it's the little things in this life that go a long long way.

My mother even called. I didn't get a chance to answer; too busy eating through the little big things of life. But as I breezed out of the office, ready to continue with the nights festivities, I found her voice mail, surprised she cared enough to leave me with anything at all. Forcing my hands to tremble as they dialed instinct numbers. As a lump grew in my throat the size of Texas. As I prepared to listen to whatever she might give me, knowing this was the closest thing to a gift. Knowing this _was_ the gift. Because these days, any acknowledgment from my mother means far more than any piece of jewelry ever could. So there in the hot and empty parking lot, I listened to her gift. Her measly, but everything, acknowledgment. I listened to her hurried and nervous voice. I listened to her resistant love inside cryptic words and faux indifference.

And through her sighs, I heard her. For the first time in months I heard my mother. _My_ mother who loves me. I heard that love. I heard it with relief.

Because no matter what we've gone through. No matter what she's said. No matter what I've felt. At the end of the day, her approval and love means more than I wish it did. Even when I still wish to never become her. I still need her.

And it's funny how life works that way sometimes.

By the time we [Madison & Jack, Aiden & Kyla, and Clay & Chelsea got to Water Street for a fancy dinner, I was already smiling wider than I probably have in longer than any of those people smiling back at me at that very dinner table could remember.

Including me.

Because I could see it in their faces, between the flickering of small candles and through the warm glow of dimmed lights. I saw the way they looked at me. I saw the way they loved me. And I felt how much I loved them. Because finally, finally I was home, surrounded by the people I care about most.

And finally I felt right to be there with them. Finally I felt accepted.

But mostly, I was finally accepting myself.

"I think it's time for another shot, whatdya say?" Aidens green eyes could warm this entire bar with how warmly he looks my way.

With the way he's always looked at me, never with any judgment. Even when we dated, and fought, he always looked at me like I had already won. Like I'd win any disagreement. Even when he found out about certain discretions and certain brunettes. About people I was certain he knew about all along, only to find I gave him more credit than he deserved. I gave Aiden instinct he never inhabited. Making his _"You and Ashley?? That's so hot!"_ more endearing and comforting than I ever imagined.

And now, as he looks at me like he's always known me, with nothing but love, I can't help but smile, nodding my head with a good natured... "Do I even have a choice?"

With a wink, he leaves me in true Aiden fashion, shouting "Nope!" over his shoulder.

And I can't think of a better way to wrap up this night. This birthday. Right here at O'Neills. Because in a town full of bars, we always find ourselves at the same one. We always set ourselves inside this one. No matter what. And I love that.

I love that on a week night, a hump day Wednesday, when work will beckon far too early the next day, my best friends are with me. They're with me at this very bar, buying shots, and toasting drinks. They're here with me, divulging themselves, even though they're the ones who will have to wake up bright and early the next day. Unlike myself, they don't have tomorrow off.

But they're here with me, celebrating, for me. And I'll never forget it.

"How's my little birthday girl doing?"

Madison squeezes in close to me, and I can tell...she's definitely divulged herself tonight. She's divulged herself far more than me, the birthday girl.

"Just peachy now that my little lush is here." Smiling towards her easy face, I playfully pinch her perfect cheek, earning myself a clumsy hand swat.

"Spence. Mind the face. Some of us actually have to work to look this gorgeous..." Sarcastic but somehow still serious, she looks around the bar as she chirps, "...we're not all born with perfect faces, like you."

Smirking, with a faint blush, I can't help but shake my head. "Shut up."

Silence falls over us, both in our own worlds. Both happy and content. Madison kind of leaning into me, nowhere near realizing it, and it's alright. Because she's got the "five wine lean" going on, and without that, my night wouldn't be close to complete. My birthday celebration wouldn't be right without a tipsy Madison by my not as tipsy side.

Because that's how it always goes. And I love it.

"You opening the shop tomorrow?" I ask with genuine interest, turning inwards, finding her attention anywhere but this booth. Her eyes are fixed on her boyfriend schooling a bunch of strangers in pool. Her eyes shine a spotlight of love on him. And I might feel kind of jealous of that kind of love if I hadn't kind of experienced that kind of love already.

"Yup. Seven a.m. inventory. The joys of owning a clothing store."

She sighs, but she's not looking at me as she says this. In fact her eyes and voice are so far away that I wonder if she's even talking to me. But that's ok, we're here to forget work, not discuss it. We're here to forget reality.

If only for a little while.

And then, reality invites itself to my birthday night. Reality stares at me. I can feel it. Someone's eyes on me. Eyes that I've come to understand and know and dislike. Because they push too hard and probe too far, and I'm not open to that. No one's allowed to look at me that way.

No one, but _her_.

"Madison..." Whispering harshly through gritted teeth, I shuffle closer to her chuckling body, feeling uncomfortable and vulnerable, "...she's staring again."

"Who?..." Madison erupts in a steady giggle, and I know the line she's about to deliver will be quite the 'zinger' "...Aiden?"

Ahh, good one, Madison. 

But even I can't help the laughter pouring from my trying-so-hard-to-be-serious lips. Thoroughly enjoying her self amusement and self sense of accomplishment. My attempts at anger and discomfort are futile, as my chuckling over rides any strength in my voice.

"You _know_ who..."

"Oh..." Madison finally joins me at this table. Actually, she finally joins life on this earth, instead of whatever world she and Jack live inside, looking to me with apologetic, that aren't really all that sorry, eyes. "...Carmen."

"Yes, Carmen. Did you really have to invite her tonight?"

"Yeah, sorry about that. She was all alone when we locked up the store and she's new in town and I felt bad..." Squinting towards the small brunette in question, she continues solemnly "...To be honest, I didn't think she'd take the invitation seriously."

Bull. Shit.

"Bull. Shit. Maddy." I laugh, seeing through her words like glass, "...this is the like fifth time you've felt bad and thought she wouldn't take the invitation seriously."

"Ok, fine you got me!" She raises her hands in mock defeat, not really caring all that much "...so maybe I wanna set you up! Maybe I wanna see you happy! Sue me!" Her escalating voice softens, sincerity filling the spaces between as she looks at me soberly, laughter a thing of the past, "...I didn't realize that was such a bad thing, Spence."

I sigh. I sigh deeply. Because she's just being a good friend. Because she has tried setting me up. Because that's not such a bad thing. Not such a bad thing at all.

"It's not a bad thing. I'm just..."

I'm not ready for that. I'm so far from ready.

"You're not ready, I know." And she knows it, she knows it better than anyone. Better than me.

"Yeah..." I whisper, while nodding solemnly, a damper instantly falling on our night. On _my_ night.

"You know, it's actually for the best. You can do _way_ better. As we've already seen..." Silence fills the table, a thick flooding silence, cause we both know exactly who she speaks of, and I wish for the flood to stop cause it might lead me to my own flood of tears...

And once again, Madison knows, quickly interjecting, with newfound humor.

"I mean look at those bangs!" Her eyes squint, in pretend disgust, towards a now oblivious Carmen talking with an even more oblivious Kyla, "...those bangs are _so_ seventh grade. And she's so small and looks so young, seriously, I'm surprised she even got into this place. I.D. and all, you couldn't take her anywhere. So really, it's a favor to all of us that that love connection will forever remain disconnected."

Like that, Madison's made me smile. Madison's released the damper, and as if on cue, Aiden strolls back to our table.

"Did someone call Jose? Cause I got me some Cuervo!" Rolling my eyes at possibly the lamest Aiden line ever, I still can stop the wide smile forming on my face. Forming on all our faces, Madison more so than anyone.

And as we down our tequila, feeling the burn in my throat, _my_ eyes find Carmen this time. I'm the one looking now. Because truthfully she is pretty. Honestly, she is sweet. And kind. And maybe it would work between us. Maybe I shouldn't be so quick to reject her.

Maybe I wouldn't if it weren't for the fact that I'm already wrapped up in someone else.

If it weren't for another pair of eyes. Eyes that are always on me. Eyes that aren't even here. That haven't been here for a long time.

But they still won't let me go.

Because she's still everywhere. Ashley is absolutely everywhere in this town that once belonged to me, and me alone. I lived her longer on my own than I did with Ashley. But it doesn't matter, because the truth is, I only truly started _living_ the day I mistakenly walked into a coffee shop that would forever change my life.

And ever since then, no matter where I'm stepping, she's there.

No matter how many times I've walked inside this very bar, this very O'Neill's, she is here. With or without her, all I feel is Ashley. All I smell is her strawberry shampoo mixed in with the drinks on bar mats. All I see are her eyes draped and staring on every blank wall.

And maybe that's why I love being here. On this night. On _my_ night. Where I can live in the memory. Where I can drown in the feel of how those eyes used to look in on me. Because this is my night, and I have the right.

Because I didn't invite reality to this party.

I don't know if it's cause of my internal train of thought. I don't know if it's cause of those eyes that aren't there, or that strawberry shampoo that is nowhere to be found, but I sense Madison drawing closer. I sense Madison picking up on my disconnection.

And as she leans towards my ear, whispering somewhat drunkenly into my ear, I feel myself crumbling just slightly. The cover up caving in.

"She didn't call, did she?"

Because it hits me that just cause I didn't invite reality, it doesn't mean she won't just invite herself. It doesn't mean she won't just barge her way in, like she always does. And all I can do is nod a very sad nod. Because she didn't call. Because she didn't even text. Or email. Because I thought that maybe, just maybe, on my day, she would.

But she didn't.

"I'm uh..." And I can't be here with that realization, with those eyes of my closest friends looking at me, knowing just how I'm feeling, "...I'm just gonna grab another drink."

Before they can stop me and insist that they'll get it, I'm up out of that booth. I'm up and heading straight for the bar. Because maybe I don't wanna think about those realizations. Maybe I don't wanna think about anything that's really happening.

Maybe I want to drink to forget.

Sliding up to that weathered bar, maybe I wanna drink to remember.

-----------

_  
The sun pierces perfectly through an open window, sending shimmers of light and waves of Lilac into this breezy room. Where she stands in the middle, timid and alone, staring into a full length mirror. Looking more beautiful than I've ever seen her. Veil and all, she is breathtaking. On her wedding day, I've never been more happy to see her._

Standing in the quiet open door way, fitted inside my suffocating dress [for reasons other than it's material I can't help but look at her. Knowing she has no clue I'm here. Knowing I need this moment to last as long as it can. Because I like it this way. Seeing her without her knowing it. Seeing her how she really is.

"Wow." Breathes from my awed lips, not able to sustain it, and she jumps, quickly turning to face me, hand held over her chest.

"Oh God!" She sighs, relieved, continuing through laughter, "You scared me."

"I'm sorry." Whispers bashfully from my embarrassed lips, slightly turning into myself with a bowed head, suddenly feeling insecure for staring.

"You know you never have to apologize, Spence."

Her warm and welcoming voice safely draws my scared eyes back to hers. Seeing her looking at me so strangely, making her words seem deeper than what their surface would suggest. Making me feel like maybe, just maybe, she knew I was watching.

Maybe she felt my eyes on her, without even knowing it.

"You look..." I trail off, searching for just the right words for the vision before me, while my eyes look at her more lovingly than I want them to, but I can't help it anymore.

"I know, I know, it's too much."

But she beats me to it, as she always does, turning back to the mirror. She fiddles around with her veil, nervously and maybe insecurely, and while it's given me an out from speaking openly and honestly, I can't let her think that. I can't let her believe I was gonna make a sarcastic statement instead of a heartfelt one.

And it was going to be heartfelt. So much more heartfelt than this heart of mine should be able muster. This heart of mine that feels so overwhelmingly small on this day.

"No..." Walking slowly into the room, I stand just behind her, staring at her through the mirror that reflects my own eyes, knowing just how intensely my blue bores into her brown, "...not too much..." my voice drops so low, it's almost a whisper "...but beautiful."

Once again I have to lower my eyes, unable to see hers, even if it's through glass, because it's the closest thing to a confession of love I've ever muttered. And as I chance a glimpse back towards the mirror, I find her turned around, staring straight through me. I find her looking at me so moved and gracious, that if this were a perfect world, it'd be her own confession of love.

"Thank you." It comes out throaty, and rough, and with so much emotion, with so much more swimming beyond the surface, that I can only smile softly in return.

Something suddenly flutters low in my stomach. Something that shouldn't be there. Because this is her wedding day. This is my brothers wedding day. I should not be looking at her this way. And suddenly that fluttering escalates, because it seems like maybe, just maybe, she should not be looking at _**me**__ this way._

And of course it turns me into a stuttering, subject switching fool.

"Uh, yeah, so I, um, brought you something."

"Really?" Her eyes light up, like a kid on Christmas morning. Maybe happy for the diversion, maybe happy for the 'something'. Either way, the air is light again, and I'm thankful for it.

"Yeah. I mean, I have no clue how this maid of honor stuff works.." I cringe inward with the title, even though I'm laughing on the outside, solely because she is too "...but here..." handing her a box, almost throwing it to her, "...your 'something new.'"

"Aw, Spence." She looks down at the small box in her hands, as if that in itself were gift enough, "...thank you..." and it kind of breaks my heart for how sweet she is. For how grateful she already is, without even seeing what's inside.

"You do realize you have to open it to see what it is, right?"

And I can't help but joke about it. I can't help but kill the moment. Because that's how I deal with this wedding stuff.

"Shut up!" She orders, playfully, offering me another thoughtful smile, before opening her gift.

Before seeing just how heartfelt I can be, when I'm not hiding from it.

"Oh my god..." Her eyes spark and light as she pulls the small silver necklace from the box. As she holds it up to the glimmering sunlight, displaying the small delicate letters tied to the middle. The meaningful, heartfelt lowercase script 'pb' bound to such a strong chain. 

Watching her watching what might as well be my heart in jewelery form, I feel myself blush, wishing I could regret giving her something so meaningful. But as she looks to me, with shimmering eyes, mouth trying to form a smile through overwhelming emotion, I know I could never regret giving her this.

I could never regret giving her my heart. And inside this room, with just the two of us bathed in sunlight, lilac, and regret, I know that is exactly what I've given her.

"Spence, it's beautiful." Eyes dance over the letters in mid air once more "...so beautiful..." whispers from her sweet lips as her eyes crawl back to mine, smiling wider than I've ever seen them, before she wraps me in a hug. Before she wraps me so far inside herself, that I think I might lose myself there.

And as she whispers "Thank you, Jelly" directly into my neck, sending shivers down my spine, I know it's too late. I know I've already lost myself. I've been lost inside her for longer than I can remember.

"You're welcome, Peanut." I say it so softly, loud enough so only she can hear, even though we're all alone. Even though we're so tightly pressed to one another, that she can probably hear every one of my stuttered breaths. I'm sure she can feel every one of them, because I can feel every one of hers. I can feel the way they shorten and stint together.

I can feel the way our perfectly pressed dresses might just wrinkle under such pressure. Under such wrong circumstances. Because her hands aren't just on me any more, they're around me and through me, with fingers that dance across my neck. With fingers that stroke me in a way that shouldn't make me feel the way they do.

With fingers that shouldn't stroke me in the first place.

With fingers that pull me from her, needing the space, because I still think I can escape her. Because I still think that distance could stop the heartache.

Because I'm still that much of a fool.

But she stops me. Before I can fully unwrap myself from her perfect wedding dress, with a beautiful perfect body and mind to fill it, she cups my face in her hands. Cupping it inches from hers, with eyes that stare into mine, occasionally flicking down to my lips. Occasionally making my stomach flip flop with the way they flicker. Because why are they flicking in the first place? Why is she still holding me, so close? Why is she drowning me in the deepest waters?

Waters I'll never resurface from, because why would I ever want to with her looking at me that way?

"I love you, Spence." It's so broken and honest and unabashed, and I can't help but reply "I love you, too, Ash" in the same voice as we just stand there.

We continue to stand there, unmoving, with my face held between her hands, as if it were unimaginably valuable. We keep standing there, longer and longer, closer and closer, and I briefly wonder if time has stopped. As she leans her forehead against mine, both our eyes closing, I briefly wonder if this is even real.

Because how can she be doing this? How can I let her? How can I let myself?

"PB & J..." She whispers, and I know her eyes are on mine, I know because I just feel, so I look to her, finding just what I suspected "...you and me, Spence..." Her words dance all over my lips, sending me into a mess of tingles and shivers, as her thumbs brush over my cheeks "...always."

Tears I never even knew were there roll down my red cheeks, as I nod. As I whisper "always" right back inside her. Just like that, reality hits us, sending us into a swarm of awkwardness and discomfort. Because we've never been this close. And she's still holding me, and I'm still letting her, and time is still unmoving when in actuality it's racing by us.

When in reality, time is running out on us and the moments where we should actually be doing this.

So when she looks at me once more, her face so close to mine that her two eyes look like one, I have to swallow, hard. When she licks her lips, terrifying me with a possibility I still don't believe could ever happen, I have to pull her hands from my cheeks.

And as I say "Congratulations, Ash, I wish you nothing but happiness." I can barely get the words out between such heartache, having to turn and walk away from her.

Having to walk away from her eyes that need me to stay.

Having to live with my own eyes that will never believe it.

-----------

"So what'll it be?"

Blinking repeatedly, I need a moment to come back to this dark bar. I need a moment to find my reality. I need to register this very nice bartender trying to take my much needed order.

"Um..." Leaning over the ledge, letting my fingers tap nervously across the wood [for a reason that feels outside of my own memories, my eyes scan the bottled selection. "I'll have..."

Stuck with indecision, and not sure why, I think long and hard about what I want. Still living inside memories, and certain brunettes, and nights inside this very bar, I feel myself needing so much more than a drink.

I feel _those_ eyes that aren't even here. I feel them on me. I feel them boring into me. So it's no surprise that when I lean even further over that Ashley bar, I order an Ashley memory.

"Kettle on the rocks, please."

The bartender turns his lips inwardly, nodding his head, as he smirks an "Impressive." 

Returning his smirk, I'm ready to reply with my own replaying memory, knowing the true meaning will be lost on him. Knowing I'm about to deliver a line that only one other person could understand.

"Maybe she's trying to impress tonight."

But someone beats me to it. _She_ beats me to it. Like she always does and turning in slow motion, I find _her_ there. I find her right there. More real than ever, Ashley stands so far but so close to me.

And just like that, my life shifts into gear.


	26. Running To Stand Still

For a moment, I'm underwater. I swear I am. Everything inside this bar is muffled down and drowned out. Including _her_. Standing right in front of me. A smile on her face that spells nerves. That says she's as shocked as me. I need air, I need to breathe, because once again I've found myself in the middle of a dream. A dream realized. A dream that's actually life.

Suddenly her eyes soften, as she takes a tentative step towards me, a tiny inch closer that feels like she's leaped miles. And with that inching step, the bar slowly comes back to life. Slowly I feel the weight of air leaving my lungs.

Relieving none of the weight still dwelling inside me.

"Hey you."

It's soft and whispered, almost like she's afraid to actually say it. To _really_ say it. But I _really_ heard it. I heard her say two simple words inside a voice that used to say so much more. That used to moan, whimper, and gasp. For me. That used to whisper such private, honest words. Meant for only me.

And it's those priceless memories that have me blushing a fire.

They have me blushing so badly I can't find my voice. I actually believe I might have up and lost it. Because the hotness on my cheeks is so overwhelming, I think it's disabled my capability to form words. The capability to even remember them. My eyes won't stop crawling over her every feature, they just won't stop appreciating a sight they've gone far too long without. Unable to stop those eyes with minds of their own, just dancing from her every limb down to her every curve, "You look..." distantly observant, I finally snap out of my dream like trance and quickly change routes; because _this_ is not a time for honest appreciation. _This_ is not a time to be checking out the girl who checked out on _me_ so many months ago.

"...I mean...I uh...what..." but it's never been that easy to stop appreciating her, and before I can keep stuttering my way into oblivion, Aiden barrels straight through our moment.

Ending it before it truly began.

"Ashley!"

Clueless Aiden wastes no time in wrapping Ashley in a tight hug. Wrapping her in the way I wish I could and possibly would have, if he had never ruined our awkward moment. I try so hard to shift my eyes to the floor, but I can't. I can't stop staring. Watching the way Ashley hugs him too. Watching the way she locks her eyes with mine. Never leaving them behind. With arms that hold Aiden looking like they'd rather hold me.

And I feel that old pal of a pit dropping and dissolving in my stomach. The good one. The one I forgot all about. The one I'm only remembering now because she's the only one who can give it to me.

She's the only one who's ever given it to me.

"What are you doing here?"

Finally Aiden does something worthwhile, aiding me in conversation, driving us to a destination I need to see. That I need to know about. So badly. And I'm watching her more than ever as she pulls away from Aiden, becoming her own mumbling mess.

"I...um..." A quick glance my way, looking as if she doesn't know how she wound up in this situation. She doesn't understand how _she_ put herself inside it, "...I just had some things to take care of."

The air shifts with the way she looks at me, as if she wants me to know she's saying honest lies. As if I should believe those "things" have nothing to do with me, when in actuality I am the thing. I'm the only thing.

And we both still know it. We both know those eyes still have my name all over them. And a small small part of me wishes it still didn't make me so happy.

Only a small part, though.

"Ashley..." Madison crawls her letters in the same way she crawls her way towards us, and I feel my insides twist more than they're already twisted. Because Madison carries the reality of this situation right with her. Madison reminds me of the fact that she doesn't just grow a lean with her drinks, she grows loyalty made of steel for her friends. Abnormal loyalty for her best friend.

Loyalty I'm beyond lucky to have.

"Long time, no see."

She says it coldly, briskly, cooling all of us on this hot sweltering summer night. Yup, she's in full loyalty mode, alright. Because while she loved Ashley and me together, while she did everything possible to help us just be...she hasn't loved what Ashley's sudden, but not unexpected, disappearance did to me. She hasn't forgotten the endless tears I cried. She remembers the harsh, in the heat of the moment, words that escaped my lips.

"Long time." She whispers quietly, eyes never leaving Ashley's, but we all feel them. We all feel her honesty.

Especially me.

Madison's bitter, but right, words hit me hard. Hit the truth inside my flailing and fledgling heart, remembering those tears I cried. Remembering those words I said but never believed. And it's given my eyes a ticket to the floor. Given them first class motive to leave those too dark eyes that say too many words I still believe I don't want to read.

"It has been a long time..." But that too sweet voice of _hers_, brings my eyes back to _hers_, like it always has and I'm sure always will, and I find those too dark eyes slowly finding mine, shooting me a meaningful look only used on me, as she whispers "...too long." 

Life outside the two of us ceases to exist in this moment. It's just Ashley and me. Us, alone. And something tells me no one could interrupt our moment now. As I hear Madison coughing in the distance, something tells me they won't even bother trying either.

"Right. Well unlike some people..." Madison's elbow juts against my side, but I hardly feel it "...I gotta work early, so I think it's time I bailed. That cool with you Spence?"

She asks me as if my answer would make any difference, and I only nod with a quiet "Yeah. That's fine" Because we both know my answer never mattered. We both know more than we wish, that nothing mattered the minute _she_ walked inside those bar doors. The second she possibly stumbled inside the wrong bar.

Madison gives her a quick look, and even though I can't see it, I know just what it means. I know, with those green eyes, she's telling Ashley to be careful, to tread carefully.

And as she moves on to wrap me between her drunk arms, she gives me her own look of advice, with soft words, "I love you, Spence..." with harsh honesty "...please be careful, ok?"

And for some reason it makes me want to cry. Because why would I ever have to be careful of _her_?

Before I know it, they've piled out of the bar. Before I know it, it's just Ashley and me again. Inside our moment. A moment that I've been wishing forever on, and now that I actually have it, in all it's awkward tensing glory, I wonder why I ever thought I wanted this.

"So that's the infamous overeating girlfriend, huh?"

I wonder why she still has a right to act so normal, like we're still best friends or something.

"Huh?"

I wonder why she still has the right to look at me like _that_ and why it still makes me feel like _this_.

"Aiden's girlfriend...what's her name..." Her eyes suddenly look scared, like they see every one of my unsure thoughts. Like she sees the bitterness flowing through my once shocked, but now cooled off body, "...Kyla?"

And I wonder why it's only now I remember those hopeless voice mails I've been leaving her.

"Oh, yeah, that's Kyla." My insides slowly drown in humiliation, because it's only now I realize she's listened to those hopeless voice mails. That soft and shy smile spreading on her face says she's heard every one of my mumbling, foolish words.

"Hey there..." Suddenly an uninvited hand softly sits on my back as a voice that should not be here slides into my ear "...where'd everyone go?"

Carmen has now ruined our moment. More than anyone possibly could, and before I can answer her. Before I can even get rid of her, Ashley is ready to rid herself.

"Oh, I didn't know..." Ashley's worried eyes flick quickly between the two of us, as if she were adding up a very scary, very heartbreaking, equation "...I mean I can leave you guys..." She starts back stepping from me and the bar, "...yeah, I'm just gonna give you guys..." and finally I realize what solution she came up with.

I realize how wrong her solution is.

"Hey no..." Without even realizing it, I reach for her hand on the bar, instinct words pouring from my sincere lips "...don't go. Please." Holding her shaking hand in mine, I turn back to Carmen "...I think they all left. Sorry."

"Oh." Carmen sees my death grip on Ashley hand, I know because I see the disappointment registering on her face, her own separate reality [so far and so different from my own finally revealing itself "...well I think I'm gonna head out too. Bye Spence."

She whispers that last part, and I might feel bad for giving her the brush off.

I might, if it weren't for Ashley's hand still in my own. Feeling that hot touch from that hot person I've missed so much.

"Who was that?"

Ashley's voice brings me back to this bar, to her hand inside mine, to Carmen walking away from us.

"Who? Carmen?"

"Yeah..." I can feel her resisting my touch, I can feel her begging to pull away, but all the while still begging to be held, "...is she your, uh, I mean she a new friend?"

She still believes that misinterpreted and misread solution, and I can't say I blame her. I can't say I wouldn't feel the same exacts doubts, fear the same exact suspicions.

"She's no one."

Looking her straight in the eyes, I give her nothing but heartfelt honesty, and I still don't know why I'm giving it to her. I still don't know why we're still standing here, holding hands, as if the past six months never happened.

And the way her face turns, looking solemn and sad, it seems she's thinking the same thing.

"Why are you here?"

Before she can say anything, I beat her to it. Getting down to the heart of the matter. Getting there more rudely than I had intended.

"I..." She seems surprised, thrown off by my abrupt tone "...I just had to do some things. Meet some people."

Lies. I can tell. There's something she's not telling me. There's a lot she's not telling me, considering it's my birthday, and she's yet to wish me anything.

"Oh..." And now it's my voice that shows _my_ disappointment, because why hasn't she said anything? "...that's it?"

This time I meant the rudeness. I meant the harshness. Cause why are we still standing here? Why are we still skirting around all we really wish to say?

She feels it, too. She feels my hurt. She feels the pain _she's_ inflicted on _me_. And I have no clue what she's gonna do. I have no clue what I'm going to do.

"I'm sorry, maybe I shouldn't..." I feel something lodge itself in my throat, so big it slides down to my chest, cause I see her backing away again "...I shouldn't have bothered you, I'm sorry."

And before I can say anything, before I can stop the backtrack, she's gone. Just like that, as quickly as she stomped into my night, she's stomped her way back out of it.

And I'm still sitting here at this bar, wondering why.

But not for long, nope. Not this time. Not anymore. I'm done with my sitting back and just letting things happen. Just letting _her_ leave.

Those days are over.

Because I'm already outside the bar. I'm already tugging on her arm pulling her back to face me. I'm already kind of crying as I whisper "Really...that's it?"

And she won't look at me, because I don't think she can. Keeping her eyes closed, facing the dirty sidewalk, she sighs with a breath so heavy.

"Spence..."

"No, really, Ashley. That's it? After months of nothing. _Nothing_..." I breathe it, cause it hurts too much to say it out loud "'...that's all I'm getting from you? That's all I've gotten from you. That's all. For six months. Six fucking months, you've left me with nothing and then you just come back here as if it never happened. As if you never left me..." My eyes close all on their own, because this time, this time it hurts more to _look_ at her "...you came back only to leave me again."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." I'm still not looking at her, as she whispers her apologies more sincerely than anything I've ever heard.

"Well 'I'm sorry" isn't enough. It's just not." I move back from her, finally putting needed space between our blazing bodies in summers heat, between our overfilled bodies of burning regret "...where did you go, Ashley, where have you been?" My voice comes out unbelievably sincere and incalculably sad. "Why did you leave me?"

She feels it. Oh how she feels the sincere and the sad. And oh do her hurting eyes hurt me more than I wish they did.

"Oh Spence..."

"You haven't even said anything. You haven't even tried hugging me. It's like, you're scared of me or something. Like you think I'm gonna run away from you, so you won't even give me the chance to prove you wrong..." These words are unexpected, coming from a place that's thinking without me, but I keep letting them leave my lips, cause they're nothing but true "...You didn't even stick around to see that I could never run from you, that I just couldn't..." My watery eyes look into hers, finally "...I could never run from you when I've been running _for_ you. When I've been missing you so fucking much that I can barely bear it."

I know she wants to talk, I know there are words needing so badly to be said. But she can't, not with the tears falling from her eyes, filling her lips.

"Did you even miss me? Did you even think about me? I left you messages, every Sunday..." I'm not sure if I can even look at her, I have to look away, squinting down the street. "...you never even called me back. Once again, you didn't do anything. I mean, I started believing you never listened to them."

"Of course I listened." Her wobbly voice brings me back. "I listened to every one of them."

Her eyes sear her words inside me, leaving me to believe nothing but her. Leaving me to only see and hear her. And I wonder if it'll ever wear off. I wonder if our isolation, my isolation in her, has ever not been there.

Because somewhere deep within myself, I know it's always been her. It's always been just her.

"Why didn't you ever pick up?" Words softly leave my lips, so sad, so broken "...Why didn't you just call me? Why didn't you let me know you were ok, why didn't you..." I shake my head, tired of asking for her why's, tired of putting myself through the most tortured roads, roads that could possibly kill me with her answers "...I mean did you even know today was my birthday? Have you forgotten me that much?"

The air becomes so silent with that last question. With my whispered pain and screaming confessions of fear.

So silent until she cuts right through it.

"Why do you think I'm here?'

Once again her eyes look into me, so hard and so deep, but it's not searing. It's only comforting and warm. Like the thickest blanket, she wraps my homeless heart inside her safe eyes. And it should unnerve me how "right" she's made me feel.

Then again, when you're feeling right, you never stop to worry about the wrong reasons for it.

Because maybe, maybe they're nothing but right, and now you finally know it.

"What?" I ask timidly, still somewhat afraid of her why's and her answers.

"Come on Spence, do you think it's just coincidence that I showed up tonight? Tonight, on your birthday?"

"But..."

And then she's walking towards me, taking any chance of me speaking with every step, cause I feel that good pit again, expanding and contracting inside me. Suddenly remembering how her lips feel against mine, and suddenly really wanting to feel them again.

"How could I ever forget the day you were born?" She whispers, like she's right on top of me, and looking up from the ground, I realize she almost is. She's right there. Right here, before me, so close I can feel her breath. "...how could I not listen to every one of your messages, every Sunday, and wish I could be as strong as you. And wish I were brave enough to just pick up one time. Because I did miss you Spence. Because I _do_ miss you. So much that I know I couldn't bear it. I never could and I can't now."

I hear people passing by us, laughing and talking, living their normal lives. Not even realizing they're walking past a scene that could make or break _my_ life.

"I had to see you. I had to come back, today, on your day, because I needed to see that you were ok. I just..." She shakes her head, like there's just so much inside her, threatening to burst from her, threatening to share even more naked honesty, shedding more honesty that I deserve, that I need "...I had to give you this."

Suddenly a small box is pushed into my hands, and I feel a memory repeat itself in my mind. Never ever able to forget one moment shared between us.

"What's this-"

"Happy Birthday, Spence."

She whispers it into my ear, pulling herself away from me. So far, as if she still needs the distance I gave us earlier.

But I'm too caught up in the unwrapped gift in my hand. The plastic cassette tape with a strong silver chain wound around it. Not even needing to see it fully to know what letter is bound to the middle of it. Knowing a beautiful "j" sits there perfectly like the "pb" still residing around her neck. Still there, after all these years.

"Ashley." I'm so overcome with emotion, I can barely get her name out, let alone any other words.

"It's 1981. The year you were born." I look to her, finding her eyes sitting solely on the tape between my hands, "...a lot of people think the 80's was all big hair and bad clothes, which is kinda true, but there were also some really great songs, some people don't realize the gems that were born in that decade, but lucky for me..." And then those eyes lock on mine, so tightly, practically chaining and bounding themselves to me, puling me to her "...I'm not some people."

Like that, I'm right inside her again. I'm so far inside there, that I don't remember the pain. I don't remember six months of nothing. I only remember this. The moments of PB&J. The moments of us, and everything between us.

Making my whispered "Thank you" so incredibly soft.

Making her "You're welcome" even softer.

Making this silent shared moment between us beyond special. Beyond real. Beyond any birthday gift.

And we just keep standing there, looking at each other, as if we're both thinking "what now?" Because that's exactly what we're thinking. Because what exactly are we supposed to do when everything between us has always been so hard, so difficult, so much and so overwhelming.

When all of that suddenly disappears, leaving us with nothing but simplicity. Leaving us with nothing but forget over all that's come between us, and remembrance over every time we've come together. Every time we've touched. Every word we've whispered.

"What are you thinking?"

Ashley's gentle, but nervous, gravely voice breaks me from my thoughts. Breaks me from my distance, planting myself back before her. Seeing her afraid. Maybe still afraid I might run. Maybe afraid I'm still mad, when I never could be mad. When I never really was in the first place.

"I'm thinking..." Holding that cassette in my hands tighter, I glimpse downwards briefly, before looking solidly into her eyes once again, "...that you should come with me."

Slowly, I reach my hand into the air, reaching for hers, like a shelf to lay myself out on, because she needs to know I'm not running from her.

No, as she tentatively takes my hand, holding it more loosely than I want her to, I have to tie our fingers tighter. 

Because she needs to know, as we walk down this wide open road, that if I'm running anywhere, she's running with me.


	27. Always Surviving, Finally Living

Life is a series of moments. So many precious moments. And you've seen mine. The ones treasured. The ones regretted. I've shown you them, both the good and the bad. Because I've held on to them, whether I've wanted to or not, they've stayed with me. Because it's these moments that have helped define me, change me, molding me into the person I am today. Even the bad ones. Even the ones that nearly killed me.

Especially those.

Because they're the ones that showed me I could survive them.

That I have the ability to survive.

That I'm stronger than I ever believed.

And it's funny how all those surviving moments of mine are wrapped up in one other person. It's not all that surprising that everything important to me, is engulfed so far inside _her_.

Then again, I guess people change us just as much as the moments we share with them.

Then again, it's actually the people who help us survive that really matter.

And we've survived together. Ashley and me. Even apart, all our roads have driven us towards the same place. Led us to the same moment. This very moment.

Where it could all end.

Good or bad.

Where it could all begin.

"Spence, wait." A hushed, but solid voice screeches through the still summer night air. My person, my moment, holding my hand tighter. Stopping us in the middle of some beaten down road. A road that's probably seen so many life altering moments. A road that is housing what I know is another one of _ours_.

And something tells me this is our biggest.

"What's wrong?" I whisper more sincere than ever, unconsciously leaning closer to her, clearly removed from _this_ moment. Clearly forgetting six months without her. Forgetting missed calls and long nights. Forgetting her eyes before mine, looking so impossibly sad. So unsure, flicking back and forth, behind my face, behind my eyes.

I'm foolishly neglecting them blatantly hiding.

"It's just…" She sighs, breathing deep, "…what are you doing?"

It's kind of heartbreaking; the way she asks me why I'm simply being myself. Why I simply want to be with her. And all it takes is her hand pulling from mine, to throw me right back into this moment. This night. This lost and far away girl before me. The same girl I naively believed was found mere moments before.

And it's sad that I'm still so confused and even more naive, as I hopelessly utter into the stifling air, "What do you mean?"

I can tell my endearing swallowed up voice tears at her, leaking her own swallowed tears into her shaky and unsteady voice, "I mean, why are you still here with me?" Scared eyes lower below mine, "…why aren't you mad?"

It's strange how I perfectly understand what she means, yet am still so lost. Just as lost as her, maybe.

"Mad?"

"Yeah...why aren't you mad at me?" Suddenly things piece together, in a way I don't want them to, because I'm not liking the way those gorgeous eyes drill far into the ground, so far from me. "…Why are you still here, Spence?" I follow the trail her eyes take towards our linked hands, swallowing hard as she whispers, "Why are you still holding my hand?"

I already feel my insides compress with the implications of what she's just said, with the hidden meaning behind those see through words. And it's suddenly kind of hard to breathe. Suddenly my voice drifts away to the softest, most reassuring place it's ever seen.

"Ashley-"

But she cuts off my condolences.

"No Spencer, please don't do that. Please. Don't say it's ok, because it's not. What I've done to you, it's not ok. I don't deserve it. I don't deserve..." For once she looks at me like she used to, with conviction and with love I know she's always had for me,"…You. I don't deserve you, Spencer, and I don't deserve your forgiveness."

I want to step in and save her so badly. Save this. Because it's all so unnecessary. Because I'm not mad. Because I've never been mad. In all our years together, no matter how hard I've tried, no matter how much I've believed I've tried, I've never been mad her.

But as she sighs "It's not right" once more, I realize she's not upset with how mad I may or may not be.

She's upset with how mad she is with herself.

And I don't really know what to say, so I listen instead.

"God you don't know how much I've missed you Spencer. So fucking much. Like you have no idea." Her voice cracks on every syllable, and there's nothing that could stop me from replying this time. There's nothing stopping the shy smile spreading across my face.

Because this time I know _just_ what to say.

"I think I have an idea."

And I see how hard it is for her to not smile back.

"Spencer! Come on. See, that's what I'm talking about! Why are you so ok? Why is..." Her hands frantically move between us, searching for an answer "..._this_ ok?"

I don't even bother searching for more words. Because I don't need them...not now. Not when all she needs is simplicity, because that's really what the truth is. At least what it should be.

So I give it to her, blatant honesty inside a simple shrug to match my simple answer.

"Because it just is."

She looks so disbelieving as she practically trips over her own voice, "But...but how? I mean, don't you wanna know? Don't you wanna know where I've been?"

Truth is, I don't. I really don't care anymore where she was, where she's been, because she's here now. She's right here, close enough to touch, and I have no intentions of letting her go.

Not this time.

Not ever.

Because this is it.

This is _our_ moment.

But she keeps talking, and I'm still listening.

"Don't you wanna hear about how stupid I've been? How fucking stupid I've been running from you? The person I love and care about most. The person I thought about every day and night, just wondering if she was ok. If _you_ were ok. Picturing your smile, and praying to a god I don't believe in that you weren't giving that gorgeous smile to someone else. To someone who was braver than me. To someone who didn't need to leave the person she needed the most, solely out of fear. Leaving her before she could leave me." Her voice teeters off with that realization, and all I want to do is wrap my arms around her, stopping her from going further. Cause I really don't need to hear this. Cause it hurts. Cause it shouldn't matter.

But as she takes a sad step backwards, eyes glazing and skipping along the sidewalk, I realize this isn't really about me anymore. This about her. Her needing to say this. Her needing me to hear it.

And suddenly nothing matters more than this.

"I'm so sorry Spencer. I'm so sorry. I do this. I've done it too much. Bailing before I can get hurt. I practically did it with my mother. I ran from everyone when she died. Everyone I needed, everyone who loved me, everyone who could and would take care of me. Because I couldn't take it. I just couldn't..." She shakes her head, not ready to go there, and it's alright, it's alright because there's time to go there, there's other nights to figure out our past.

"...But then I met you. Just when I thought I'd never find someone...someone that I could let in. Someone I could trust and feel safe with. I thought I was so far away from those kinds of people. Little did I know I was only running straight for the biggest one of them all. Little did I know I was going to meet the most important, most precious, most caring person of my life..." I can feel my heart tighten, and even though her words are sad, it feels good because letting go of the past offers hope for the future.

"...And it's strange now looking back on all those times I begged you to just be honest with me. Begging for a connection that I wanted so much. A connection I never knew I was so freaking terrified over. And maybe..." Finally she looks back to me, so apologetic "...maybe that's why I always let you run. Maybe that's why I always came back. Maybe that's why I ran once I got it." Her eyes have never been so seriously set on mine, "That _is_ why I left you when I got you...because I couldn't stand to lose you."

She takes the deepest breath of her life, "So turns out I'm pretty fucked up, huh. Turns out I'm an idiot who believed needing someone was a reason to leave them. And it's taken six months, six of the longest months of my life, to realize just how idiotic I was. Just how fucked up I've been. Just how much I've missed you and how much I'd give if it meant I could take back these six months..." She breathes out a very quiet, very heartfelt, "If I only could." And then she exhales. Exhales so far and so hard, and I know there's nothing left for her to say.

For now, that's all she can give me. And it's more than I've ever needed. Because I knew long before she waltzed her way back into my life, before she slammed inside this night, that I'd take her back in a heartbeat.

After losing her, for what felt like the last time, I knew I'd never let it happen again.

"I wouldn't." I say it softly, mindlessly, thinking out loud, and she looks at me beyond bewildered, "...take back these past six months. I wouldn't if I could."

She looks absolutely stunned, and for a split second I kind of am too. But only a split second, before I realize it's my turn.

It's my turn to make this moment mine. To make it ours.

"Because you know where I've been these past six months, Ashley?" I don't even give her a chance to answer, knowing it's futile, because it's time for my confessions, "...I've been surviving. I've been surviving without you. I've been realizing I'm capable of it. I can function without you. When you're not around, I still breathe, I still walk and work and sleep and watch TV and shop for groceries."

A deep breath swallows itself inside her, and I see her wondering how this is supposed to make her feel better. I see her finding this to be her punishment. I see her regretting her pleas for me to not give her forgiveness.

And it makes me smile. It sends my never lighter feet to shuffle closer towards her, holding our molded for each other hands, while tying our fitted fingers together. And it brings her eyes to mine, so much softer than before. So much more open to mine. To mine pouring right inside hers.

"Yeah, I can survive without you Ashley..." My eyes flick down to her lips for a brief second, before meeting hers straight on again "...but I'm merely getting by. When you're not in my life, Ashley, I'm not living a life. I don't laugh as hard. I don't smile as wide. I don't wake up as easily. I don't sleep as soundly..." My hands move to cup her face, instinctively, and I feel my voice trembling as one of her tears rolls over my thumb, "...Music doesn't sound the same without you. Did you know that? That without you, no song sounds as beautiful as it once did. That everything in this life is nowhere near as colorful, beautiful, meaningful without you in it?"

I can feel her shaking between my hands, both of our bodies chilled on such a hot night. And as I glance to the side, seeing what I came here for in the first place, I can't stop my forehead from resting against hers.

"Do you wanna know about my six months, Ashley? Do you wanna know where I've been?"

And before she can mumble a shaky reply, I'm taking her by the hand, leading her where I've needed her so badly. Where I've always needed her.

Fumbling for steps, she follows me blindly, putting her full trust in my hand holding hers. Putting her every strength inside my own. And I can't help but feel genuinely proud for finally having some. For having so much. For finally feeling brave.

For actually being brave, and finally believing in it.

As I dig for the keys in my back pocket, I can feel her begging to ask where we're going. As we scramble through the back door, I feel her curious eyes scanning every dark wall. And as I find the lights, displaying the open and clean art gallery, I feel her confusion.

"This is my six months, Ashley..." Walking her through mazes of art, I draw her towards mine, nowhere near afraid, nowhere near insecure, for the first time I'm more open than ever, and I've never felt so safe "..._this_ is where I've been."

I can feel her tears before I see them, slowly turning from a bright white wall covered in her face, in her eyes, in her dark skin. Slowly turning from my exhibit, displaying every picture I snapped of her one morning so long ago.

Every picture of our last day together.

Every picture on a day that forever changed my life.

A day captured in black and white.

"Spence..." It's merely a breath from her overwhelmed lips, but it gives me even more strength.

"We may have been apart Ashley..." I sheepishly look back to that black and white world that suddenly seems like a lifetime ago "...but for six months you were with me. Always. You may have ran, but you never left me. And _that's_ why it's ok. That's why..." Turning back to her, solidly and assertively, I grab her hand inside mine, squeezing it for emphasis "..._this_ is ok."

She doesn't even look towards me, but I know she hears the words. I know she feels them. Because I see it in her eyes. Because I see it as I see her caught inside _this_ moment. Watching her eyes search over every corner, every moment revealed before us. I watch her breath catch at the title. At the numbers painted between such heavy prints.

120808.

And I see them too. I see the date of when this world was captured. The date when my life fell away from me.

The date my life came together.

"They're my numbers, Ashley..." I say it so she knows what I mean. What I'm implying. So she knows they mean as much to me as the numbers on her wrist "...Because that's the day I thought I lost everything. That's the day I was sure of it. And that's what these six months have been for me. Because they made me realize that I really gained everything on that day. It's the day my life truly began. It's the day I stopped being afraid. I stopped hiding from what I wanted. Even after I lost it all, I didn't stop fighting for it. And for that...for that I could never give up those six months. I could never give up what I've learned. What I've realized. What I've become."

Her fingers wrap around mine tighter. Securing us together. As if we'll never let go. "Me either." Whispers softly from her sweet lips, and I turn towards her, never realizing I had ever turned away.

With shimmering and gleaming eyes we finally look to one another. We finally see ourselves with nothing holding us back. And it's so unbelievably surreal how real she seems.

How real _we_ seem. For once, we feel like a possibility. A reality, soaked in nothing but love and purity.

And for once, I feel like I'm seeing her for the first time. All over again.

"I don't wanna survive anymore, Ashley." My squinting eyes match my bare breaking voice. Scratching and cracking with such open words. With such untouched reality. Untainted honesty.

"I want to live..." A breath full of relief leaves my body, taking any last regret with it "...God I want to live. And I'm tired of pretending that I am without you. I'm tired of forcing smiles. I'm tired of pretending I don't cry at night..." I can see unshed tears gathering in her eyes, and I don't want to see any more of those coming from her, I don't want to see her sad anymore.

So I smile. I really smile.

"I'm tired of searching hours and hours for Friends and winding up with Seinfeld."

And her laughter has never sounded more beautiful.

Has never lifted my heart so high.

Has never sounded so much like the first time.

"And I'm tired pretending that eating five Peanut Butter and Jelly's a day is normal." A chuckle escapes her lips, one full of so much relief, that I swear a smidgen of the weight of the world might have been lifted with it "...I'm so tired of drowning in those, Ashley, and I think we both know there's only one person who can help me with it..."

"Yeah..." Without missing a beat, without six month concerns or running with regret, she shows me a perfect white smile, giving me an assertive nod while giving us a new beginning. "...Dr. Phil."

And the laughter, the newest, most freshest laughter of my life won't stop dribbling from my lips. I can't stop the goofy, no holds bar smile spreading across my face, practically cracking my cheeks with it's size "Nope. Not even him. He actually turned me down. I guess PB&J addiction isn't such a severe problem."

Our chuckling swirls and blends together, harmoniously, and it's strange. The way I've never felt closer to anyone. The way I've never shared so much with someone. And at the same time, I feel like I'm just meeting her. Like it's the first time. Like I'm starting a new life with a new person, who's the only person I've ever known.

"I guess not." Her soft voice, light and relaxed, flits over the silent air. And for some reason, it pulls me closer to her. It pulls me inside six months and two years and coffee houses that changed my life.

It pulls my hands to hers, drawing her body into mine. Face to face, with lips that hover so close, she can feel my every breath as I speak so honestly.

"That kind of addiction isn't a problem..." My fingers find their way to her face, tucking her softer than I remember hair behind her ear "...no, that kind of addiction is a blessing. The biggest blessing."

For the first time, I _feel_ how close she is. I _feel_ how long it's been since another human being has been this close to me. This intimate. Not since this very human being last touched me have I touched someone this way.

And I think she notices it too. I think she licks her lips because of it. I think it slides her hands to my back, holding me there. Because she misses me just as much as I miss her.

Because she misses us.

And as my lips instinctively find hers, sliding and gliding like so many times before, it somehow feels like the first time. It somehow feels so heavy, so intimate, so clean. So fresh. That it wipes away our past. It wipes away the slate.

It gives us a new one.

And she still moans just like she used to.

But I shiver like never before.

And she grabs my shirt, twisting it between her fingers in that same familiar way.

But I feel a foreign butterfly flutter in my belly

And when she pulls away from me, she feels like she always has, but better. She's never felt better. Because she finally feels like mine.

Because she _is_ mine.

And it's ok.

Her warm hot breath breathes over my wet-from-her-lips, and it pulls me right inside this moment. It pulls me so far and so deep, that it's almost too much. Because this is _the_ moment. The moment that I've always wanted, that I've always needed, and now that it's here, it's too much to comprehend. It's too much to control or hold.

"So..." Her darker than ever eyes look into mine, "...what now?"

And maybe that's the point. Maybe these moments aren't meant to be captured or stored away.

Because it's moments like these, which are simply meant to be lived.

Looking down into her eyes, I see her every smile, I hear her every laugh, I taste her every kiss, and it makes me breathe the only answer left.

"We live." Kissing her with every single thing I have inside me, I breathe it once more inside her mouth, I breathe _our_ moment right in there, so far and so deep, so it's all she can comprehend "...we live."

**The Le End.**

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**Thanks for reading and reviewing guys :)**


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